Mutant High II
by Lykosdracos
Summary: Long awaited sequel to Mutant High
1. Default Chapter

Mutant High: Part Two

Chapter 1

Summer passed with few interruptions from the outside world. I'd gotten to know Rogue a little bit better. Chris spent a lot of time with her, talking, playing video games. Bobby didn't seem to be jealous and Rogue wasn't in danger of falling for him so, despite Chris' ulterior motives, peace remained between all of us.

Chris told me about why Rogue's so secretive of her powers. Whenever she touches someone, human or mutant, she retains their memory. If she has skin contact with a mutant she can absorb their powers. She had apparently done this to Logan, at some point. The claws, it seems, aren't his power, healing, however, was.

Chris explained the incident which had caused Rogue to run from home. A boy she'd been dating had leaned in for a kiss, her powers triggered, and the boy went into a coma. Rogue and Logan were close because there had been some power struggle between Charles Xavier and Magneto. Magneto had kidnapped Rogue, was going to use her in some plot to make every human a mutant. The X-Men intervened and Rogue absorbed Logan's healing abilities in order to survive Magneto's attack.

They-- Logan, Jean, Cyclops, Storm, and Xavier-- had saved the world. The Professor doesn't see Magneto as an enemy, they had once been friends, or so the rumor carries. The two of them, the Professor and Magneto, founded Xavier's School. Both of them want to protect mutants from unfair governmental laws, but Magneto's way has more to do with eradication.

Jean Gray, even now, was addressing several members of Congress to try and persuade them to forgo Mutant Registration. One other bit of information that I'd learned... Magneto has a partner and ally. Several, in fact, though the one I'm referencing is his right-hand. Her name is Mystique. I haven't seen either of them in person, nor would I relish meeting them.

Chris and I have talked about Magneto's views of humanity and we both agree that he has a point. Should one of us ever come face to face with them, it wouldn't be to join his cause. Rogue, alone, convinced us that he'd use us as pawns and throw us aside when our usefulness ran its course.

We aren't in danger from him, very much, that is, but Logan would be. Magneto can command, alter, and manipulate all kinds of metal. With the adamantium, Rogue explained that Logan's entire skeletal system is enforced with that metal, he'd be easy prey for Magneto's talents.

I don't know very much about Mystique, either aside from knowing she's a shape-shifter. She is lately masquerading as the Senator. Senator Kelly died last year, also having been kidnapped by Magneto. He died in one of the first experiements done, the Senator's body hadn't been able to take whatever process Magneto used to make him a mutant.

Mystique uses the Senator's political ties to further their cause. Where the Senator had once been fighting for Mutant Registration, his views, lately, have changed to support the mutants. No one seems to think this is very strange.

I've learned so much this summer about mutants, the School, what our true purpose is. All of it is a little overwhelming, we're, essentially, an army created by the Professor. I forgot one other bit of news.

Magneto, the metal manipulator, is locked in a plastic prison. The Professor has no doubt that Mystique is trying to free him. While most people think he's contained, shut away for good, Xavier thinks otherwise. The Professor visits him every now and then. He takes Jean, Scott, Storm, or Logan with him. Logan hasn't been back yet, he's still in Canada.

Logan _borrowed_ Scott's motorcycle and, as you can imagine, Scott was not at all pleased. We heard about how uncivilized and 'wild' Wolverine was for the next couple of weeks. Even now, when he goes past the garage he mutters under his breath and shakes his head.

Chris and Scott aren't exactly on the best of terms, either. They speak to one another when they have to, but other than that they don't acknowledge the others presence. After what Scott said last year I don't blame Chris one bit. Chris bought us leather knife sheaths that can either be stored in a pocket or else hooked onto a belt-loop and now we carry the knives wherever we go.

We'd gotten pretty good with them, too, but we are much more careful now then when we were then. We also wear protective clothing when we spar. The first time we'd fought I had been wearing shorts and a t-shirt, like the old days. Chris blocked one of my attacks and then slashed my arm. When the gash opened on my arm, as cool as it was, we decided to take certain safety precautions. I have the healing powers, but he doesn't and the knives are sharp.

Scott hates when we fight, but Chris and I had been sparring long before we came to the Mansion. Granted, it was mostly physical fights, we hadn't really branched into weapons back then, hence our sense of caution now. We knew one another well enough not to cross the limits.

The worst that had happened was a black eye here or there, a few bruises, nothing really harmful. Neither of us used the dirty fighting moves we'd learned from high-school. I didn't go for his knees and Chris refrained from cracking my collar-bone. We used those moves in the Danger Room, I'll never be able to thank Logan enough for his permission to use it.

My powers stablized, I have a degree of control that I hadn't thought possible a few months ago. Chris, on the other hand, had developed another type of power. While I can produce and vanquish my flames he can throw a line of fire that can melt any substance.

He can't get the fire to hurt humans, yes, I'd nervously acted as his guinea pig. If he concentrates he can change the temperature of his fire. The Professor warned against going above a certain degree mark for fear he'd internally combust or damage the earth. The furthest he'd gone was to melt steel We found that out the hard way and, needless to say, Xavier had to buy a few new sets of silverware.

Everyone's excited because there's a field trip scheduled for the Museum of Natural History. Jean, Storm, and Scott are to be the chaperones. The Professor is coming, too, in case of trouble. Mutant Registration was a major conflict now and people all over the world were in favor of it.

I've been documenting my life for awhile now, I might as well add Chris to it because he's been such a big part of my life. Ah, well, its almost one in the morning, time for a cigarette before bed. I don't want to be tired for tomorrow, the Museum is going to be a lot of fun.

* * *

It was morning before I knew it. And, no, I'd gotten side-tracked by the empty rec. room, I hadn't gotten much sleep. I was too busy finishing a game that, literally, has a wait list. It's addictive, what can I say?

It's basically about a warrior-like character that ages. Everyone around him ages, as well, as the storyline progresses. Time goes relatively quickly in the game-universe, I'm near the end of the game and if I want to finish it, I'll have to sneak downstairs and play around 2am. There's no way I'll get a chance during day-time hours.

"What's up," Chris asked walking down the stairs.

I couldn't help glaring at him. He's able to stay up all night, get an hour of sleep, and look amazing. I had to cover the dark circles under my eyes with black eyeshadow. I'm used to it, I love night-time too much to let it pass by sleeping. It rankles that Chris is a guy and manages to put me to shame.

He was wearing a shirt Cyclops would have hated. It was black with a white dagger piercing a tribal heart. I had tried to tone my outfits down, but he wasn't pleased with the results. I'd stopped trying shortly thereafter.

I knew he had at least two knives with him, I had three on me. We'd managed to perfect the timing, when going through a metal detector, if we heat the metal the alarms don't go off. We not only have th process down, but our clothes don't catch fire anymore, either. We don't know why the metal detector's don't register them, something with the cellular makeup of the steel changing? I'm not going to question it, I'm just glad that we figured it out.

"Not much. What about you." I asked. I smiled at his approving look. I was wearing a low-cut pair of black jeans, three-inch, buckled boots, and a solid black, fishnet armed black t-shirt. We weren't trying to be the poster children for the goth movement, our clothes suited our personalities. With the hostility aimed at mutants, it was better to look intimidating rather than peaceful.

I'd long since realized that a glare and threatning attitude went further than a smile and submissive behavior. People were more likely to leave us, and our friends, alone if they thought we were dangerous.

"Eh, same as always," he grinned.

Storm came striding into the room herding a bunch of the younger students with her. We boarded the chartered buses outside of the gates. Chris, Bobby, Rogue, Jon, and I all grabbed seats in the back. We planned to hang out at the museum together, too. Jubilee and Kitty had taken the class already and been to the Museum before. They weren't overly upset, both of them preferred a trip to the mall.

I listened to my CD-player and talked to the various people that spoke to me. Chris was arguing with another boy in front of him about a game they both played. I watched them go back and forth about topics on the games effects, sounds, visual graphics, violence, and ratings. Chris defended it while the other guy called it a crappy waste of time. I rolled my eyes, guys, it could never just be 'a good game.' They had to dissect everything. Chris, having studied game design, was above the threshold for geekdom.

"When we get there," Jean interrupted, standing and talking loudly to be heard over all the noise, "I want you to stay with Storm, Scott, or me. For the older students, stay with a friend at all times. Pay attention to the times and don't be late. I want you to have fun, but keep this a commotion free trip."

"No, and I mean no, use of powers. Do I make myself clear?" Scott asked sternly. "The older students, you are the role-models. Use this privilege wisely. If you follow the rules, the younger students will follow your example."

" Good luck to the future generation," someone shouted from the middle of the bus. Scott scowled but he sat down without saying anything. I heard Chris laugh at that as well. We'd be breaking the rules as soon as we stepped through those doors.

We got through the metal detectors fine and ironically the person in back of us got caught for having a nail file. Chris and I shared a look before we went to catch up with the others. Less than three hours went by before Chris started sighing and shh'ing me.

He didn't want to hear anymore of my jabbering about ancient wars, clans-- I like history. I love museums, I'm pretty sure he's glad Xavier didn't pick the Metropolitan Museum. I'd have dragged him through all of the ancient wars, armor, art.

I know he doesn't share the same passion for the subject. He subtly maneuvered me to the food-court. We didn't really want to eat or drink anything, having a place to relax and talk seemed like a good idea. The rest of our group was there. A group of boys a table started trying to get us to talk to them.

Rogue smiled a little at what they were saying, and I couldn't help but laugh at how immature they were. They kept bragging about how tough they were, drinking on weekends and partying all the time. Then they pulled out cigarettes to appear cool, it made Jon crack up when they didn't have lighters. He had his out and was unconsciously flicking it open and then closed like he always does. The boys noticed and asked him for alight. Jon just looked amused and didn't answer. I tensed, ready for there to be a confrontation. Chris put a hand on Jon's shoulder already knowing it was too late.

"C'mon, man," Bobby said staring at Jon and the guys, a worried expression on his face.

"Hey," Pyro exclaimed when one of the boys lept forward and l took the lighter from his hand.

The second guy pushed Jon back into his chair. Chris managed to get a good hit on the guy who'd pushed Jon back.

"Wait," I grabbed Pyro's arm as the first kid lit his cigarette with the lighter. Jon focused on the end of the cigarette a split second before the whole thing blew up and caught the boy's clothing on fire. Bobby shot him a glare before he glazed the boy in ice.

"Bobby, what did you do," Rogue asked horrified. The kid had space to breathe, but Bobby's control wasn't at his best. His body was encased in ice, the boy couldn't move.

We all looked around and noticed that everything had froze. It was like pushing the pause button on a movie except for a few minor exceptions. Someone was speaking on the opposite end of a cell phone and the voices inside the museum speaker boxes still were droning on. Professor Xavier came up with the other teachers and looked grimly at us.

"The next time you feel like showing off, don't," he said quietly.

Rogue jumped when a television monitor clicked on and reported about an attack on the President. When we heard that it had something to do with mutants, we left quickly and quietly. Jon laughed almost the entire way back imagining what the guys would think when Xavier unfroze them. When Rogue told him it wasn't funny that he had hurt the boy, he laughed even harder.

Chris and I shared a look, what Pyro had done was inexcusable. We would have fought them, sure, but not with powers. The Professor would definitely be having a talk with Jon when we got back. I just hoped he wouldn't include us in whatever punishment he'd devise.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Xavier forgave us once he heard the whole story, but Scott wasn't as lenient as he could have been, all things considered. He made us write a one page essay on 'proper decorum' that was due at the end of the day.

Chris and I wrote ours together, we'd been assigned an extra page on the dangers of bringing concealed weapons into a public building. I'd slightly altered the last page to reflect a person's right to safety, the probability of rape, statistics of being mugged, the laws that had changed to protect a female. Chris was out of luck because he couldn't take the same stance, though he did his on his right to protect female's from the same risks.

Rogue and Bobby were in the rec-room playing thumb war. Bobby had sensed her pensive mood upon returning to the Mansion. He'd challenged her as a way to lift her spirits, genius idea, she had snapped out of whatever she'd been thinking about.

Chris, after I finished his paper, was playing the new game on the Playstation in the living room. I had wanted to go and practice in the danger room, but a class was scheduled there. We had both agreed that knife-fighting was pushing the limits, so I read a book while he gunned down guys and stole cars.

There were two boys sitting at a table laughing over some kind of drawing on a piece of paper. The sound of a motorcycle made me wonder how Logan was and if he was okay. Rogue leapt up from the sofa and bonded out of the room. Bobby stared after her in confusion, but followed her as he always did.

I like Bobby, but I don't know how Rogue puts up with him. He's always trailing after her, holding her hand, asking her questions, I wouldn't be able to stand it. She seems happy enough, maybe she likes it.

"Logan!!" We all heard Rogue yell. I went over to the doorway and leaned against it. Logan was back and looked the same as ever. I decided not to make myself known until everything died down, I wanted to talk to him anyway, and his concentration would be divided right now. Bobby and Logan shook hands.

I had forgotten, Bobby and Rogue started dating after he'd left. Yes, he had some news to catch up on, as well. I didn't mind standing in the background, the time he'd been gone had given me time to think.

Yes, I did like him, but the feeling was born more out of admiration and awe. Watching him take down around a hundred guys without breaking a sweat, without losing, of course I'd be drawn to him. I liked strong men, guys who took charge, I'd always idolized them. When he came riding to the rescue all those months ago, I'd formed an attachment to him.

I had been worried about my reaction, but seeing him stand there in his leather jacket, white undershirt, jeans... I felt happy he was back, a sense of peace, but my heart wasn't in my throat and I wasn't afraid I'd stutter when I spoke to him.

Storm came down the stairs and they all said their hello's, but it wasn't until Jean appeared that I noticed any change in him. She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, and when she stepped back, I noticed he almost hesitated to let her go.

So that was the way of things. Logan liked Jean, I could see why, she was gorgeous. Red hair, pale skin, thin, luminous eyes, she wasn't too good or too bad, either. They spoke, but I couldn't hear what was being said over Rogue, Bobby, and the chatter that had started when he walked through the door.

Cyclops cleared his throat as he came down the stairs. He stood in an almost predatorial stance, I was surprised, he was usually so reserved. I knew that Jean and Scott were seeing one another, Jean didn't seem to encourage Logan's advances.

"Find what you went looking for," Scott asked courteously.

"Not really," Logan replied without bothering to glance Cyclops' way. He was too busy staring at Jean. Rogue and Bobby seemed a little uncomfortable as the tension in the room rose.

Jean, however, looked a little guilty and proved it by going over to Scott's side. Storm left to get the jet ready, she and Jean were heading to Boston to look for another mutant that needed help. Bobby and Rogue went back into the common room, they had eyes only for each other.

Logan nodded in my direction, as the room cleared he'd noticed me in the doorway. His attention strayed as Jean kissed Scott. Cyclops took the kiss to another level, I sighed at the display of possession. Spiteful, really, considering the two men's animosity toward one another. Logan caught my glance and raised a brow. I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes.

"Take care," Jean said to both of them before she left.

"You going to welcome me back? Your bike needs gas," Logan said, throwing the keys to Scott.

"Then fill'er up," he said miraculously catching the keys and throwing them back. Logan pocketed him and I smiled at the expression on his face. Scott wouldn't be getting his bike back.

"Welcome back," I grinned and gave him a hug. "How was Canada?"

"Same as it always is. Snowy, bleak, the bike made the trip faster than I expected, though."

He'd changed since the last time I saw him. He looked grim and was exhausted. I could tell by the way his eyes were duller, not less predatory, but glazed over in fatigue.

"I'm, er, glad you're back, its been pretty dull around here," so much for the stuttering.

"Have you been using the Room, beating your thirty-record streak?"

"I can take down forty now, but on the intermediate speed, I can't get past thirty-three on the level above that," I sighed. I'd been working on it, but I couldn't get past two on the level Logan had initiated.

"Not bad," he grinned. "You look better, eating and sleeping now?"

"Yeah," I replied, "you look like hell. Did you pick up my bad habits?"

Logan laughed, but his head snapped up and he froze for the next few minutes.

"Xavier calling," he said after a long pause. He shifted his shoulders in the black leather jacket so that the material rested more comfortably.

"I'll talk to you more later then," I said knowing the conversation was about done, anyway. Neither he nor I spoke for an enormous amount of time. When I smoked with him on the patio or hung out with him otherwise a lot of time was spent in comfortable silence.

"Yup. I'm 'babysitting' tonight," as he walked away Logan lit his cigar. I grinned inwardly when I thought of what Xavier would say to that.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The rest of the day passed quickly. Classes were post-poned because Jean and Storm weren't there to teach and Scott left with Xavier to visit Magneto. I loved the School, when classes were cancelled it wasnt because of the weather. Nothing mundane, our _headmaster _was going to visit a man who had tried to kill all humans.

Two of our teachers were going to take the jet to save another mutant, so much for snow days. I left my paper in Scott's classroom, read a little in the library, worked out in the Danger Room. It was only about ten o'clock and I had to go and meet Chris for our game-war. I showered, changed, and met him in the hallway by my room. He was tapping his foot, I was late.

"Nice," he whistled. I was in a pair of light blue jeans, a black and red corset shirt. A few necklaces hung around my neck, black bracelets on my arms, a ruby ring and a blue-gemmed silver ring were on my hands. I was wearing my combat boots, I loved them, broken in, comfortable. They didn't really go with my shirt, but I hadn't felt like undoing all the buckles on my heeled shoes.

"Thanks," I turned to give him the full view. "You like?"

"Hell yes," he laughed. "Does this have anything to do with a certain person having returned?"

"No," I glared at him, "I wear stuff like this all the time, don't be an ass."

"You used to wear corsets all the time, yea, but after Scott put his foot down..."

"He isn't here, is he?"

"Sure, that's it," he said sarcastically.

"Chris," I stepped closer, "are you wearing cologne?!"

"Hey," he crossed his arms, did I notice a slight reddenig to his face? "Its not cologne, its Axe, and I just showered."

"Because Rogue's going to be downstairs?"

"I won't pry if you won't," he pulled me against the wall as a knife appeared in his hand. I tensed, too, we both had heard a feral roar and the sound of furniture being destroyed.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute?" I pushed him away, I knew that sound. I appreciated the gesture, but I didn't need him to protect me. His eyes lost the cold edge as the knowledge registered, it had been Logan, he stepped back and put his knife away.

"I know you're going to see what's wrong but." then he stopped speaking and sighed, ""you're going to go anyway, aren't you."

"You said you wouldn't pry," I replied smiling.

"Be careful," was all he said before heading to the staircase.

I followed the sounds of splintering and crashing, stopping outside of a door I took a deep breath before kicking the door in. My mind scanned the room looking for downed assailants, blood, any sign of struggle.

Logan growled when he saw me, I stood still hoping he'd recognize me and not attack. I was braced for it knowing I didn't stand a chance. I had known of his nightmares, all the kids did, but this was the first I'd seen.

"Are you. okay?" I asked hesitantly. I saw a dresser on its side and the nightstand now had three deep groves etched into it. A chair tettered on three legs and his alarm clock was in pieces on the floor. Logan looked dog- tired, his eyes were red rimmed and agony lurked in the golden depths.

"Yeah, I'm just dandy," He replied half to himself. Logan went back into the darkened room and picked up various articles of clothes from the floor. Restlessness emnated from him in waves, his motions were jagged. His leather jacket, overshirt, and plaid cuffed shirt were all thrown across the back of the three-legged chair. He then sat down in a different chair heavily, stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankle.

"Ok, well..." I wasn't sure what to do.

"Close the door and sit, don't need to scare the other kids. Is there anything left of the door?" There was humor in his eyes as he looked at me. I reached for the doorknob wincing a little as I saw some splintering in the wood from where I'd kicked it. I was able to close it after a couple of tries.

"Sorry about that..."

"Eh," Logan shrugged laughing a litte bit. "The door wasn't locked, you coulda just opened it."

"I didn't know if someone was attacking you," I said realizing how lame my reasoning had been. "You sounded like you were fighting."

"So you came to help, huh," he rubbed his face and lit his cigar.

"Not help so much as... assist in cleaning up the damage?" I leaned over to light my cigarette when he kept his lighter open for me. Logan chuckled as he snapped the lighter shut. He moved an ashtray with his boot so it was between us on the floor.

"Quick thinking, fast acting, I heard good things from the Professor about you and your friend Chris. Good fighting skills, huh? You guys knife fight?" He patted a corner of the bed in front of his chair, I took the hint and sat down.

"Sometimes. I wouldn't say we're very good. Lucky, more like," I smiled, "I"m reckless and he's rash, we get into a few scrapes here and there."

"What time is it," he asked looking out the window.

"Almost eleven," I checked the watch Chris had given me. "I'm not bothering you? I mean, this is your bedroom, I was just making sure you were okay, I didn't mean to keep you awake."

"You aren't," he ashed his cigar, "I don't mind your company. You don't chatter and you don't ask questions about things you shouldn't see in the first place."

"Er... thanks," I replied. What the hell had that meant?

"The Professor told me that you'd probably trust me before anyone else here cause you had so much anger in ya," he paused, "and then I saw it. That day in the Danger Room, yeah, a lot of it was energy, but more was rage."

"I've always had anger problems," I said searching his face for censure. I'd heard things like this before, the psychologist my parents had made me see said I was self-destructive. I wasn't self-destructive, I was pissed off at a bunch of things people had been blind to. I told the psychologist, and various guidance counselors, to go to hell. I didn't see any disapproval, he looked thoughtful.

"I understand rage," he replied quietly, "you're hurtin' and you see other people hurtin,' but you don't badger'em about it. You ask, but then you leave'em alone. You get to know them, so I figured, what the hell."

"And you said _I _see too much." This had been the longest conversation I'd ever had with him, "that's why you let me hang out with you?"

"You smoke."

I stared at him for a moment in shock, I knew he was blunt, but... then I realized that there was amusement in his eyes. I was glad that he seemed to be relaxed, some of the restlessness had abated.

We sat and smoked in silence for a little while, he rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. I saw him tense after a few minutes had gone by, he didn't open his eyes, but I knew he was going back over his dream.

"I dream about things chasing me," I asked softly. I wasn't going to push, as he'd said, I wasn't the type to mettle in things people didn't want to talk about. I could remember talking about my dreams with Chris, talking about them seemed to help banish them.

"Do they catch you," he inquired still not opening his eyes.

"Not yet," I lit another cigarette, "what about you? Does anything chase you?"

"I can't remember a lot about my past, I'm sure you've heard," he looked at me finally. His eyes were sharp, the look he had while assessing a dangerous situation. I nodded not wanting to speak, "My dreams... tanks, scientists, pain... "

I waited in silence to see if he'd finish his thoughts. It was surprising that he'd answered my question, I had expected him to shrug it off with the same nonchalance he always had when anything personal was brought up. He seemed lost in it now, reliving whatever he had invading his sleep.

"... green... always the same dream... shit," he cursed staring at me.

I was just as stunned by his admittance as he was by my presence. My expression was blank, I had wiped all emotion from my face, despite the rage that burned in me at the thought of him being hurt.

"And you think it was real, don't you," I said pensively.

"You see way too damn much, kid" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"I don't gossip," I said crossing my heart, "I'm no _kid_ to go tattling your stories to other people."

"Fair enough," he grinned sardonically. I watched him move around the room straightening the nightstand, putting a book under the crooked chair. I heard him mutter a little to himself as he turned a light on in his closet. Student, middle of the night, teacher, my room, Chuck and throwing a fit, things like that, I got the basic gist.

I put my cigarette out shaking my head, amused, "I'll see ya 'round, Logan, I'm late for my date with Chris."

More muttering from the closet, I struggled to open the door and escape into the corridor before I'd start laughing. I hadn't lied, I wouldn't tell anyone what we'd talked about. He knew that I trusted him, but after our conversation, I was pretty sure that I had gained his trust in return.

* * *

Bobby was in the kitchen with Logan, that was about the sum of my knowledge as to where everyone was. Chris had raised his eyebrows at me due to my hour long absence. The room was empty, quiet had settled over the Mansion. I liked this time of night the best. The students and teachers slept, I was free to roam as I pleased despite the cameras that tracked my movement. There were a few other kids that I passed in my nightly excursions, but they did their thing and left me to mine.

Chris had started the game, it was co-op mode, he used fewer lives than I did. I had chosen to play a scantily clad elf warrior, Chris was a dagger-wielding rogue. We played through the first few levels easily. He paused the game abruptly, eyes narrowed, and signaled me to be quiet. I heard a thud, we stared at one another for a second before standing, the game was forgotten in our paranoia.

There was a little boy that was watching television in the other room so we both ran to go and see if he was alright. How many times had I prowled my house, knife drawn, because of some perceived threat? It always turned out to be nothing, but I'd never been able to break myself of the habit. The boy was sprawled out on the floor with a triangle of three small silver dots on his throat.

"Freeze!!" I heard someone yell. I turned and without real thought I threw a ball of fire in the direction of the voice. A soldier fell to the floor, Chris shoved me out of the way as a second soldier fired his gun. Three silver dots hit the sofa and stuck. Chris threw his knife and the soldier collapsed. He grabbed the weapon, wiping it on his shirt, as the two of us raced to the kitchen.

A blood-curdling, high-pitched shriek rent the air. Chris and I covered our ears tying to block out the sound, but it was no use. That had to be Sireyn, a mutant who had the capability to disarm others with her scream. It stopped as suddenly as it had started. Chris led the way then and I went behind him to guard his back. From inside the kitchen came a loud enraged roar, bullets, and then the sound of a body falling to the floor.

"No," I gasped, skidding into the room. There were horrible visions of Logan or Bobby bleeding, dying. I saw Bobby crouched under the kitchen table and Logan standing over the body of a dead soldier. Chris had pulled me back, shielding me with his body, as I'd forgotten the danger in my concern for them.

"We're under attack, go warn the others," he said briskly. I checked to see what was happening in the hallway and things didn't look good. Luckily, the lights were off in the kitchen, otherwise they would be swarming here. As it was, they crept silently around the mansion armed and ready to attack.

"Bobby, go find Rogue and the others. We'll watch out for ya" Chris whispered. I knew he didn't care what Logan said, there was no way that we were leaving him here to take out all twelve of the men in the corridor. When he managed to dispatch of them, more would come to see what all the commotion was. There was no way of telling how many of them there were, and we weren't going to take the chance to find out.

"What are you waiting for," he snarled, "get outta here!!" Without warning he rushed out into the hall and all hell broke loose. His battle cry was loud enough to waken the whole mansion, which I think, was part of his plan.

The three soldiers nearest to the door were killed before they even had a chance to assess the situation. Logan's claws were out and he gave in to the rage that was under the surface. He'd killed most of them at an alarming pace. Mechanical, graceful, fluid he didn't have to check to make sure they were dead. There was no doubt in my mind, they were dead.

Chris, Bobby, and I followed in the wake of destruction. We'd take one of the elevators, rouse the others, get them to safety. It was then that I realized what the soldiers were shooting. I saw about six of them on Logans upper arms.

He was able to fight off the tranquilizer's effects, for the most part, but if either Chris or I were shot... I didn't trust my abilities to protect me against unconsciousness. If Logan were shot a few more times, would he be able to withstand all of it? I felt the adrenaline rush through my veins, which gave me the strength to step out into the midst of all the carnage and death.

"Look out," I screamed, realizing too late at what was about to happen. New men had arrived at the scene, some of them looked around in a daze, two of them raised their guns to fire. I pulled out my dagger and aimed. Chris aimed a line of fire at the second, which stopped him in his tracks. I shot a fireball at him and watched as Logan ripped through the rest.

I ran across the hallway and pulled the dagger out from the man's body. I'd worry about guilt, if it came, later, we were in danger. I dried the still warm blood off on his vest and took a second to survey our situation. Bobby was gone, probably on his way to get Rogue.

Chris caught my attention and motioned to the balcony. We took the stairs two at a time, I cursed at my lack of weapons. The one time I didn't have my other knives on me, of course, but I had other weapons at my disposal. Chris stunned them with his fire, I took them out.

Logan had a small circle of them around him, he was keeping them in close range so they didn't fire. Chris and I took out the guards that were further away, hidden in the shadows. Chris made a wall of fire every now and then that disintegrated the tranquilizers before they could reach us.

I saw movement from the corner of my eye, felt a blade lay open a scratch on my back. I opened my eyes, I hadn't realized I'd closed them, Chris was pulling his knife out of the man's throat.

"Watch your back," he said resuming his position.

"Thanks," I replied glad that my voice wasn't shaking. Logan had a circle of bodies surrounding him on the floor, he moved from the ring of death into the shadowed areas of the room.

"Upstairs, now," he motioned to where the dormitories were. Chris and I didn't hesitate at his tone, we ran up the rest of the stairs. Looking over my shoulder I was pleased to see that Chris and I had taken out nearly twenty of the soldiers. If there was time I'd stop in my room and arm up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Chris checked Rogue's room first, she was nowhere to be found. Kitty, Jubilee, Pyro, none of them were in their rooms, either. I hoped Bobby had gotten to them, I didn't want to think of any other alternatives. I slipped into my room, knowing I was wasting time, but having a few more weapons was worth the danger.

I threw two in my pants pocket, one into my boot, I gave Chris four, his room was on the opposite side of the Mansion. I passed him his leather jacket thankful that we hadn't traded back since that day at the mall. I threw on a zippered sweatshirt cursing my corset; pretty, yes, battle-ready, no.

Chris checked the sleeve of the jacket, smiling for a second, he, too, was glad we'd made the trade. The floors shook, what the hell was going on now, if the soldiers had grenades... all of us were screwed.

A huge, gaping hole was ripped into one of the doorways and Colossus, encased completely in metal, his power, was helping children escape. Logan appeared holding the unconscious boy from the recreation room.

"Take him. He's just stunned," Logan explained hurriedly giving the boy over.

"I can help you," Colossus objected as he watched more children exit through the tunnels.

"Help them." Logan said firmly walking in the other direction. He stopped at the edge of the wall frame and gave us a look that forbade us to follow him. A soldier came around the corner and Logan buried his claws in his foot, then reached up and swiped him across the throat.

He disappeared into the other room and all we heard then was gunfire and yelling. More kids poured through the tunnel, some of them were crying, others looked numb. I didn't see Rogue or any of the others.

Chris tapped my shoulder, eyes blazing with determination. I nodded, we weren't leaving until we were sure our friends had gotten out safely. We were walking along the side of the balcony when I saw something that froze the blood in my veins.

"Rogue!" I saw her down below in a haze of shock. Logan instinctively looked downwards and saw how perilous the situation was. Chris and I were on the balcony, Logan had just come up to help us, swearing. Rogue, Jon, and Bobby were all the way on the first floor.

There wasn't enough time to get down there to save them. I considered aiming the dagger, but there were too many soldiers shock might make them pull the trigger on their guns. Logan had perspiration beaded on his forehead and shoulders. His shirt was stained red from wounds that had closed.

"Hey!" Chris shouted descending the stairs two at a time. "Over here!"

The soldiers turned their heads as Chris heated the fire in his hands. He was going to level the damn Mansion if he weren't careful. I braced myself ready to take them out if they attacked him.

"RAURGH!!!" Logan shouted as he leapt, claws outstretched to the scene below. He landed one knee to the floor, it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. He buried his claws into the two men that stood nearest to Rogue then flipped two more over his shoulders, effortlessly.

"Let's go," he muttered rising fluidly and turning lightly. I ran down the stairway and caught up with him. We'd came to the conclusion that Bobby wasn't going to be much help and I didn't rely on Jon for anything except backup. Considering that he could only manipulate the fire, if his lighter ran out, he was done for.

It was Chris, Logan, and I that would take care of things. Anyone else who could help was with the kids who needed protection. They had, hopefully, escaped the mansion by now. I walked as fast as I could keeping a little towards the side of Chris.

If something happened, he'd shove me to the side and I'd waste time regaining balance. As guns loaded and flash-lights flickered on, Jon wrenched open the escape tunnel doors. Logan made as if to follow us and instead closed the door, locking it from the outside.

"No! Damn it, Logan, no!!" I hit the door with one fist. Rogue, Bobby, and Jon went running down the corridor. I didn't care, let them do what they wanted, I wasn't about to leave him behind.

Chris seemed to have gone with them, I didn't see him anywhere. The last I'd seen of him, he had been protectively in front of Rogue, shielding her with his body.

"If you want to shoot me, shoot me!!!"

I held my breath waiting for the sound of guns being fired.

How could you have, Logan? Why won't you just let someone help you, damn it. Imagining him standing in front of the door, guarding us with his life while we escaped made a feeling of desperation rise up to lodge in my throat.

They might take him, then he'd be a prisoner again! Scientists, tanks, pain, he wasn't going back to that. He was my friend, I realized then that I'd die for him. I'd already killed, I would kill more men if I thought it would help.

I searched the edges of the door as high as I could reach for a lock or a latch that would free the door. When I didn't find any I punched and scraped at the door blindly wanting something, anything to help me. I was enraged and shaking as I continued to look, but nothing was going to stop me now.

I was close to actually crying in anger. I could no longer feel my hands, but the thought of leaving him...

Chris grabbed my shoulders and forced me to face him. He held my hands up to the light, most of my nails were broken. They weren't very long to begin with, but blue and yellow bruises were already forming. I had quite a few gashes on my knuckles and blood dripped steadily from them.

Now that the action stopped, my healing kicked in. Green light swirled around the injuries healing them and sending a horrible sharp pain reverberating though my head.

The pain was doubled before it the injury went away. It was a weeks worth of healing done in only a few seconds. I had time to wonder if Logan felt the same when he healed before the dizziness hit. The worse an injury was the more energy it took to heal, I felt the wounds on my knuckles close, scratches on my wrists heal.

I lost consciousness for a moment and was leaning against Chris when I opened my eyes. Had it not been for him, I would have fallen to the floor. I shook my head to get rid of the achy jelly feeling that followed me when I walked.

"Get the door open, Chris, please open the door?" I whispered hoarsely. He took one long look at me and then he reached around the door like I first had done. When he didn't find anything he placed his palm flat against the door outline and let loose a string of flame.

The door sprang open revealing Logan talking to a white-haired, bulky man wearing wire rimmed glasses. Logan looked haunted and caught in past memories while the man looked triumphant. Rogue, Bobby, and Jon crowded around us.

"Who is that," Bobby asked.

"How d'you think we know," Jon shot back. Bobby shot him a look and then rested his hand on the broadside of the wall. A thick layer of ice formed in front of Logan, shielding him from the soldiers and the man.

"Logan! C'mon let's go," Rogue called out.

"I'll be fine!" Logan replied distractedly.

"But we won't," she whispered loud enough for him to hear. That earned us a flick of a glance before his attention returned to the ice wall. He didn't say anything for the next few moments. I had to say something that would definitely result in him changing his mind.

"If you don't come with us, we stay with you," I announced.

"Speak for yourself," Jon muttered, but I ignored him as Logan gave one last furious look at the ice wall before he came with us. I heard guns cocking, a man's muffled yell. Men were putting something against the ice. We raced below ground to the garage where the motorcycles and cars were kept. Logan headed to Scott's car, but Jon got there first.

"I'm driving," Jon said opening the passenger seat.

"Maybe next time, kid," Logan snarled grabbing him by the front of his shirt and shoving him toward the back seat. Chris looked longingly at his motorcycle, but climbed in the back, too.

I was sitting in the middle of them, Rogue was all the way in front. I thought that with four people in the back it would be crowded, but there was plenty of leg room and we all had out modicum of space.

"This is Cyclops' car," Bobby remarked.

Logan didn't answer, he extended one claw into the ignition and started the engine. He revved it, opened the garage doors, and we sped down the driveway. It was pretty nerve wracking for awhile, trying to stay clear of the helicopters that kept circling in the air above us. We took a back road and lost them under over-hanging trees.

I knew we were in the clear when Logan relaxed and slowed the car to 80mph instead of the 110 that we'd been going. He hadn't said a word since we'd left the mansion, though driving at 110, I probably wouldnt have spoken much, either.

"What the hell was that back there?" Jon asked abruptly.

I looked to Logan, only he would completely know the answer. There was something about the way the white haired man spoke that proved that had once met before. The answer was long in coming. Scott's steering wheel will never be the same. Logan tensed, every muscle in his arms was taut with anger.

"Stryker," the name came out on a growl. "His name is Stryker."

"Who is he?" Rogue asked curiously.

"I can't remember," Logan replied shaking his head slightly.

Rogue was unconsciously twisting something on her wrist. It looked like a medical bracelet or something like that. Logan looked toward the jingling sound. Rogue slipped it off and handed it to him without a word. When she raised her hand I saw what they were.

It was a necklace with army-like dog tags enlaced on a chain. Logan met her gaze before he slipped it around his neck, clenching the tags in his hand for a moment. Jon sat up in his seat and reached up to the radio in the front.

"I don't like uncomfortable silences," he explained turning the radio on. N'Sync blared loud and clear into the perfect quiet. We all cringed and Logan's hands clenched on the steering wheel, no doubt he was striving for patience. After a few seconds of searching for the power button, Rogue glared and slammed her hand down over the radio. The music abruptly stopped and Jon looked sheepish.

It was then he noticed something had come out from the dashboard. He held up a small high-tech object, and Logan reached over and took it from his grasp. While driving he adjusted the wires back and forth over the small device. All we could hear was static and garbled high pitch radio waves.

"Where are we going," Bobby asked.

"We're going to Boston. Storm and Jean are there," Logan announced at last.

"But.. my parents live in Boston," Bobby interrupted nervously.

"Good," Logan said resolutely.

Chris and I looked at Bobby sympathetically. How was he going to explain this? As much as I empathized, I couldn't help but be glad we weren't heading to Jersey. Chris put his arm around my shoulders, his back to the car door. It gave us all a bit more space and I was glad for his show of support and comfort.

I rested my head on his shoulder and watched as the miles flew by.

Top of Form


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

We must have driven through most of the night because when I woke up again it was almost morning. My head was still on Chris' shoulder who was sleeping against his seat-belt. Rogue was in the same position, Bobby had his head on his arms sleeping against the car's console. Jon had his arms crossed and his head back against the seat.

"Are we almost to the house," I asked groggily.

I could remember everything that had happened. The soldiers, the intrusion of soldiers on the Mansion, killing, escaping. Everyone was asleep except for Logan, I searched my consciousness for guilt or horror. Nothing yet, all I felt was the determination and rage at their attack. I'd have done it all over again.

I remembered the look in the soldiers eyes as Chris plunged the knife into his throat. The bastard had tried to stab me in the back, good riddance to him. They had infiltrated our house, tried to hurt the kids, hurt us, no, I didn't feel any guilt.

"Just about. Maybe another half an hour or so," Logan replied looking at me through the rear-view mirror.

I curled up against Chris and stared out the window again. It was such a nice day, sunny, bright. Could the kids see the sunshine, had they escaped or were they prisoners? What if they'd been caught? What would the army, soldiers, whatever they were, do to them?I pushed the thoughts away. There was no use thinking about the 'what if's.' I had to focus on the now and the surety that, for now, everyone in this car was safe.

We pulled into the long curving driveway about forty minutes later. Bobby's house was like one of those model-houses I'd seen in magazines. He has the huge white house with big plants in the windows, a pool in the back, and two stories with a porch in the front. Logan parked the car inconspicuously so that if we were followed, no one would know we were here.

It was very picturesque, the lawn was well-kept, the porch was bright white, not fading or chipped. His parents maintained the house, it was evident by the polished mahogany of the doors and the clear walkway.

Bobby unlocked the door with a key that was hidden in the side of a mail- box and then we stepped into the house. He showed us around, basically so that we would stay out of his brothers room and not disturb too much of his parent's things. Rogue was shivering a little, even with Chris' jacket on, so Bobby went up to with her to his room to give her something to wear.

Chris and Jon went to explore the house some more which was fine with me. The two of them seemed to get along okay, they both liked video- games and knew how to fight. The two of them seemed to have a lot in common, Chris had made friends at the School, but he and Jon had been friends almost instantly.

I was left then standing in the middle of their kitchen. The tiles were done in white, outlined with blue, and they went from the edge of the living room to the porch. They had a nice wide lawn with a small garden and, of course, the pool.

The stove was so clean it shone, the fridge was state of the art. Bobby's parents had money. Their microwave, toaster, coffee maker, all of it was top notch. The house wasn't cold, there was life in it despite the immaculate kitchen. There were homey touches to it, a bowl of fruit on the counter, a newspaper folded neatly on the table. It wasn't a show-house, people lived in it.

Logan, meanwhile, wasn't interested in the scenery. He had prowled the house seeking entrances and getting a layout of our surroundings. Now, Logan was back in the kitchen, concerned with the small cell-phone thing and finding something to drink.

He pulled out a Miller Genuine Draft beer can as I studied the magnets on the fridge. There were some of them of Bobby as a child, or at least I assumed the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, kid was him.

Logan's claws came out surprising me. A place to drink was immediately punctured into the top of the bottle. A white cat jumped up on the ledge and sniffed around Logan. He looked at it a moment raising his eyebrow and then held out his hand for the cat to lick. I went over to the cat and stroked its back cautiously.

When the animal made no sign of hissing or biting me, I rubbed under its chin, smiling when it purred at me.

"Hello? Who the hell are you," a man walked into the kitchen. I guessed him to be Bobby's father.

"I'm, um..." Logan was saved from answering when Bobby bounded into the kitchen.

"Hey Mom, Dad. This is, um, Professor Logan."

He needed to work on his lying abilities, I'd thought all teenagers knew how to proficiently lie to their parents. The way he was looking back and forth between Logan and his father, a worried expression on his face, shifting from foot to foot, it was obvious he wasn't telling the truth.

"What are you doing home so early? Is something wrong," his mother asked coming to stand by Bobby's dad.

Another person came through the door then. A brother? He had brown hair and I could immediately tell that I was right, they both had the same color eyes. Bobby's may have been a shade brighter, but the brother was glowering at him. He and Ella would get along really well, I rolled my eyes and stroked the cat some more.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," Bobby looked down at the ground before meeting his parents concerned gazes. Logan had finished the beer and skillfully slipped the bottle into the pocket of his coat.

Before I knew it, all of us were situated around the room. Chris was next to me on a white setee. Pyro sat on the opposite side of a couch shared by Rogue and Bobby. Rogue was wearing vintage clothes, they looked good on her, the gloves she had on reached to her elbows.

Bobby was telling his parents about the school and who Xavier really was. I, on the other hand, wanted to be anywhere but here. This whole 'family discussion' thing was extremely uncomfortable and I wasn't the only one who thought so.

Chris was looking at me with a 'get me the hell outta here' look and I knew that my expression couldn't vary much from that. We'd been through the same thing with our parents, there was no need to relive the experience.

Jon lounged on the couch with a defiant look at Bobby's parents, he, alone, seemed indifferent to the situation. Only those that knew him could tell he was unsettled. He kept flicking his lighter open and shut, something he did only when under duress.

It might have had something to do with Ronny, Bobby's brother, who was pissing everyone off. He stared at us like we were in a zoo and, I dunno, there was something about him that made me want to kick his ass.

Jon manipulated the fire in his lighter to make an evilly grinning face when the adults weren't looking. Ronny crossed his arms and slumped in his chair. Jealous? Afraid? I couldn't tell.

"Why didn't you tell us, Bobby? We are your parents for goodness sake, how could you keep something like that from us? Don't you trust us," his father was saying.

The look in Bobby's eyes made me want to strangle the man. There was so much guilt and dispirited sorrow lurking in the blue depths that _I _almost felt ashamed for not telling them. I wasn't even part of the damn family.

They were inflicting pain on their son and I wanted it to stop. It didnt matter that they were unaware, though how they could look at him and not know was beyond me. Bobby was my friend, I kept quiet only because my anger wouldn't help him. Chris put his arm around my shoulder again, not for comforting this time, but to restrain me should I do somethign rash.

"Dad! You don't understand," Bobby tried to say, but he lost courage and ended up looking down at the floor. Ronny looked smug, he was clearly enjoying this. Again, I was reminded strongly of Ella.

"How could you lie to us like that? And just what is it that you teach 'Professor?" His father snapped turning on the strongest looking person in the room for answers.

"Art." Logan replied sarcastically, his eyes glacier cold. The father got the hint, he had brains enough to know that he'd crossed a line.

"We still love you, Bobby." His mother said reaching a hand out to touch his. At the last second she paused as if scared that she would be hurt. I could tell from Bobby's expression that action had hurt more than any of his fathers words. "It's just that the mutant problem is a little..."

"What mutant problem?" Logan asked, gaze narrowing.

"... complicated," she finished without bothering to look at Logan.

"You should see what Bobby can do," Rogue said with forced enthusiasm. I noticed that she moved closer to him for moral support, that Chris tensed beside me. I didn't have to see his face to know that he was envious of Iceman, of all people.

Bobby touched his mothers tea cup and within seconds the tea was a solid block of ice. He turned it over and it fell with a clatter onto the saucer. His mother hastily put the saucer onto the table, Bobby looked hopeful for a second as though expecting approval. Jon watched them, bored with the interaction.

No one moved, even Logan was still, everyone except the cat who had jumped on the table to lick at the ice.

Ronny abruptly stood and stomped out of the room. On his way to the door he managed to maneuver around and deliberately bump Jon on the cheek. Jon didn't hesitate, he turned slightly and got his elbow into the middle of Ronny's stomach. No wonder he and Chris were friends, both of them were good at improvisation.

Ronny looked pissed, but he didn't dare start a fight now. Jon would have won, hands down, there was a darkness to him, as well, that Ronny's pampered life would never know. Chris and I shared the same darkness, we looked at one another as the door slammed. The kid was trouble and none of us would mind taking him down a peg or two.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A cell phone rang, once, than again. Bobby's father impatiently glanced at Logan. Another ring and Logan understood that the noise had come from his pocket. It wasn't a cell, it was the transmitter Jon had found in the car.

Rogue glanced over at me and the pointed stare came across clearly. What happens now, was the message. Logan went out on the back porch to take the call and closed the door behind him. Jon sat up alertly his gaze never leaving the glass paned doors.

"Have you tried not being a mutant?" All of us stared at her in shock, Jon chuckled under his breath. My angry retort was halted by Logan's return.

"We have to go. Now," he strode across the room quickly with only one backwards glance to make sure we were following. He didn't have to tell us twice, we could see police cars coming up and around the house. They were already pouring out of the cars, dressed in black as they were, it was pretty obvious this wasn't a routine procedure.

We headed towards the front doors they were already swarming the back. There were two policeman outside the front door, more coming as we watched. The two in front of us jerked in surprise when Logan's right hand set of claws extended.

Shit, they had us surrounded, what the hell were we going to do? We couldnt attack them, they were real police officers. Whomever Stryker had fighting for him were covert ops, these were men we'd be in a lot of trouble for hurting.

"Ronny," Bobby muttered scathingly, looking up towards the second story window. It all made sense now. He was the only one who could have called, Stryker couldn't have followed us all this way.

"You." The cop motioned to Logan, "drop the knives and put your hands in the air!" Logan raised an eyebrow, but made no threatening movements.

"What's going on," he asked extremely calmly.

We were all scared, there was no way we could get out of this one. These cop's guns were real, 9mm Glocks and one of them had a shotgun. If they fired we were dead.

"Put the knives down! Then down on your knees, hands behind your head. You kids too," the officer repeated, his hands shook slightly on the trigger of the gun. An edgy guy with a loaded weapon, perfect.

"This is all just a misunderstanding," Logan tried to calm him down again. He was trying to divert the attention away from us. Men, I was getting exceedingly tired of all of them.

"Put down the blades," the officer screamed at last, waving the gun around a little.

"I-can't. Look," he held up his hand to show that the claws were a part of him.

Without warning, the cop fired, the force of the blast made Logan's body twist around before falling heavily to the floor in front of Rogue.

She screamed and everyone except Chris, Jon, and I dropped to the ground. Chris positioned himself in front of Rogue with a 'you'll have to come through me" look on his face, I, on the other hand, couldn't get over what I'd just seen.

"What the hell is wrong with you," I yelled unconsciously sending green fire flaring into the air. A small ball of fire hit the gun and sent it spiralling out of his grip. "He didn't do anything to you!!"

No one moved, they were too shocked.

"On your knees," his partner said evenly. At least there was one level-headed person present.

We were kids, I guess he didn't think he had any problems from us. I glanced back at Chris wondering what we should do. I didn't want to surrender to them, the whole on your knees thing was derogatory. They'd made it clear that they wouldn't open fire on us.

"Why should we," Chris asked crossing his arms. Jon stood, brushed off his clothes, and straightened his jacket. Bobby looked close to tears, Rogue was terrified.

"Don't be dumb, kids, we don't want to hurt you." The cop warned. Jon sneered at him flicking his lighter open and closed.

"What about him, then? You didn't want to hurt him either, right?" I raged looking at Logan.

"You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news?" Jon asked interrupting me. He paused to let the force of his words sink in. " I'm the worst one." He flicked open his lighter and three snakes of fire appeared. He let then hover a moment, their heads staring evilly like minions before all hell broke loose.

Chris shoved me to the side with him to avoid being hit. Cars exploded, people ran for cover, the Drake's living room would never be the same. The threat to us was dealt with and Pyro was having the time of his life.

I glared at Chris pulling a piece of splintered wood out of my leg. He looked at me apologetically, the wound was already closing. I gasped as the pain ran through me, shook my head as the dizziness passed.

Rogue tore off a glove and grabbed Pyro on the back of the leg. It took only a moment before he fell to the floor. The fire faded slowly leaving only destruction and dazed cops behind. No one, amazingly, was hurt. A few were injured and, I suppose, really wanting backup.

Their cars were totalled, the yard was a mess, a few officers were rolling on the ground to extinguish the flames. Jon was really lucky he hadn't killed anyone.

A great whirring sound was heard in the distance, and a sinking feeling came to my stomach. Had someone been able to call for help? Could that be Stryker now?

"Son of a bitch," I heard Chris swear. He heard it, too, and his expression showed the same thing I was thinking. We scrambled to our feet prepared to fight. I knew Chris would get Rogue and Bobby to safety.

What was I going to do if Logan didn't get up? I'm sure Pyro would have my back, would I be able to leave him? Survival, yes, but I couldn't leave a friend behind.

The jet came into view, I breathed a sigh of relief watching the police for any signs of hostility. Jon wasnt the only one capable of destruction.

Jean and Storm were at the controls, with perfect precision they landed in the middle of the lawn. Logan cursed as he stood up. He shook his head slightly, answering my previous question, as a trickle of blood ran down his forehead. The wound was closed, Logan glared at Jon.

The ramp lowered and we all headed towards it. The sooner we were gone the better. The cop who had shot Logan stepped forward and this time had the gun held securely.

"N-" Rogue started to protest, but Chris silenced her with a sharp look. I had no idea what was going through his mind. If he shot Logan, he was dead. Chris looked exasperated with both of us.

Logan held his arms out palms up at his sides to show he meant no harm. Their eyes stayed connected for what seemed like forever. The officer raised the gun and Logan nodded in acquiescence.

Pyro grinned promising retaliation, Ronny was standing at the window with his family. Bobby stared back for a minute wincing as he boarded the jet. Rogue patted his shoulder, held his hand, as they got situated.

We got buckled into the seats and then Storm took control of the jet and made it lift into the air.

"Guten tog," said a voice from behind us. I jumped, I hadn't seen anyone on the jet. It must have been a stressful morning for both Chris and I to have overlooked him.

Turning around, we saw a blue-colored person with a forked tail. He was hard to miss, I stared at all the decorative markings on his body. They weren't tattoo's, no ink, the marks seemed to be embedded into his flesh. They covered every inch of skin I could see.

His dark brown eyes were cautious, wary, afraid as if he thought we'd hurt him. He had no darkness in him, he was almost childish in his purity.

"Hello," I said back warmly. I was rewarded when his expression softened and he almost looked happy. Was this the mutant that Jean and Storm had been sent to retrieve? This creature with the haunted eyes?

We were all buckled in our seats, everyone that is, but Logan. He was up at the controls talking to Jean and the body language that was going on was incredible to see.

Logan had his head inclined slightly towards her so that he would hear anything that she said. Jean had her body tilted at an angle facing him. The three of them spoke quietly, too low for any of us to hear.

"Who the hell is that," Logan asked glancing at us. The adult talk was over, any conversation was safe for us to hear.

"Kurt Wagner," he said proudly, "but in the Munich circus, I was know as the Incredible Nightcrawler."

"Save it," Logan said wanting to get away before the police decided to attack again. I smiled encouragingly at Kurt, Logan was blunt, he'd get used to it eventually.

"We're outta here," Storm lifted the jet into the air and we were off.

Everyone breathed sighs of relief, we were all together, aboard a jet that was fortified and well-manned. Where we were going was unknown to me, but at least things were under control.

"Jean. We have two signals approaching," Storm announced looking at the tracking monitor device. I had spoke too soon. Damnit.

The jet didn't seem as safe anymore. We were quite high off the ground, if the jet were to go down... we'd be dead.

Two government jets were following us. Storm hesitated before slowing the jet so it didn't seem as though we were running. The other jets caught up with us and spoke through the radio transmitter.

"Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to 20,000 feet. Return with our escort to Hanscom Airforce Base. You have ten seconds to comply."

"I know that name," Chris whispered, "its legitimate."

"Someone's angry," Storm observed looking at the jets coming in closer to us.

"Gee," Logan said sarcastically, looking over to Jon, "I wonder why."

"We are coming up alongside you to escort you to Hanscom Airforce Base. Lower your altitude now." The woman pointed downwards as the two jets closed in on us. "I repeat lower your altitude to 20,000 feet. This is your last warning." Storm did as they asked.

"They're falling back," she remarked.

"Why are they falling back," Chris muttered looking nervous.

"They're marking us," Storm exclaimed.

"What?" Logan asked, astounded.

"They're going to fire. Hang on!" Storm put on a burst of speed that knocked Logan to the back and luckily into his seat.

"I gotta shake'em." Storm said turning the jet upside down. Once it had righted itself no one felt perfectly okay.

"Please don't do that again," John announced tersley.

"I agree," said Logan catching his breath. "Don't we have any weapons in this heap?" No one answered, Storm maneuvered the jet remarkably and Jean kept it steady. The sky darkened and funnels of tornado's came down from the sky. We dodged them and the people in the government jets had to use their emergency exit buttons to leap into safety.

I looked out the window and gulped trying to remember the last time I'd took a breath. I didn't like heights, my stomach was in knots, I was gripping Chris' arm hard enough to bruise.

"Missiles," Chris muttered.

"Jesus christ," my stomach was somewhere, miles behind us, I trusted the people in charge, but what could we do against missiles? Logan was searching the jet with his eyes. A weapon, anything we could use, there was nothing but metal and the seats we were in.

My skin prickled with energy, Jean was tapping into her powers. She held her breath, eyes going blank as she concentrated. Jean managed to deflect and dismantle one of them using her telepathy.

"Oh, god," she whispered. The second missile hit the back of the jet, ripping metal and electricity through with it.

"Rogue," Chris screamed followed shortly by Bobby's anguished cry. I threw myself across his body to prevent him from following her. He fought me, but I held on. I didn't care if he hated me for the rest of his life, he wasn't dying, not if I could stop him.

I liked Rogue, considered her a really good friend, but Chris dying wouldn't help her.

"Jean," John called hoping maybe her telepathy would save her.

Nightcrawler was gone in a puff of smoke. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, had he been pulled out, as well? I could feel the suction, I wasn't able to move from my position across Chris' lap had I wanted to.

A few seconds later Nightcrawler returned and shielded Rogue's body with his own to keep tragedy from striking again. I felt Chris take a deep breath.

We were hurtling towards the ground, I could see the sky filtering past us through the window. Chris had wrapped his arms around me, protecting me again, though there was no saving anybody. If we crashed, Nightcrawler and Rogue, maybe they'd survive, but not all of us.

"Jean?" Storm asked fighting for control over the jet.

Were we slowing down? That's what it felt like. I didn't trust my mind, the faster we'd be going the slower it would feel, right? At least when we hit the ground we'd be dead, quickly, efficiently. I didn't want to survive with however many tons of metal crushing me.

"It isn't me," Jean said, confused. Then when the jet turned completely on it's nose I saw a white haired man in a long black cloak and a woman all in blue standing before us. They smiled as they righted the jet and rested it gently on the ground.

Gently being the operative word, compared to the crush of metal I'd been expecting, this was nothing. I was thrown backwards into my seat, my spine bending at an unnatural angle as Chris hadn't let go of me.

We were safe, back on the ground. Magneto, he controlled metal, right, he'd have no problem manipulating the jet. I wanted to move, to let my death grip on Chris loose, but my body refused to listen.

My knuckles were white, my body sang with tension. Fear, terror, relief, pain, happiness, curiousity, and nausea warred for first-place. Chris helped me sit up, my hands shook, my teeth chattered. I laughed, this was all so unreal.

I was still laughing as Logan and Chris helped me onto solid ground.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was evening, I'd seen both Magneto and Mystique in person. Briefly, but still, my curiousity was assuaged for the moment. Magneto was older than I'd expected him to be. He was white-haired, wearing all black, a cape, to boot. There was a helmet on his head, but compared to the cape, that was secondary.

Mystique put him to shame. She was blue, like Nightcrawler, and it made me wonder if they were related. No one else I knew of had skin that same color. She had marking on her body, too, though while I knew some of Nightcrawler's, all of hers were foreign to me.

Mystique wore no clothes, the markings on her body covered all the important parts. The design was raised, sort of like scales, she moved lithely, seductively, despite her short-cropped red hair, it was obvious she was feminine.

Magneto had pitched a tent, the rest of us followed suit. While the sun sank below the horizon Logan had cut down a few trees and constructed a pile of wood. Pyro and Chris had been more than happy to oblige him with their powers.

Logan, Jean, Storm, Magneto, and Mystique were all talking by the campfire. Chris wanted to hear what they were talking about.

"Why shouldn't we know what's going on? We're all a part of this, too."

We crept into bushes within hearing distance, I had checked to make sure we weren't kneeling in poison ivy or oak. I didn't want the information that badly. I'd found a patch of it before, my arm had itched for a few hours before Chris opened my skin with his knife.

Genius idea, the gash healed and the rash disappered with it. My body was willing to repair any wound that bled, rashes, bruising, swelling, those healed at normal speed.

Rogue and Bobby didn't want to come, Jon was nowhere to be seen. Logan saw us as we crouched among the branches, bushes, and shadows. He glared at us, but didn't betray us. I smiled at him in the darkness, no one else there would have been as lenient.

"His name is Colonel William Stryker," Magneto was saying, "and he invaded your Mansion for one purpose. He wanted Cerebro. Or enough of it to build one of his own."

"That doesn't make any sense," Storm interrupted. She, too, was gorgeous. White hair, slim figure, large eyes, she walked confidently. I'd seen her eyes go opaque when controlling the weather, what an amazing power to have. I loved my green fire, but harnessing nature, that would be incredible.

"Stryker would need the professor to operate it," Jean added.

If the Professor had been to visit Magneto... Magneto was standing directly in front of us. Where was the Professor? The two of them had been friends. Was Magneto so engrossed in his cause that he'd allow Xavier to be taken? When had it happened?

Scott wasnt present, either, had they both been taken at the jail? If that were true, I nudged Chris and shared my theory, we'd see if Magneto had any power to withstand fire.

"Which, I think, is the only reason why our friend is still alive," Magneto confirmed my suspicions.

"Now, what are all of you so afraid of?" Logan asked. Chris nodded his head, he wanted to know too.

"While Cerebro is working, Charles' mind is connected to every living person on the planet. If he were forced to concentrate on a particular group, let's say mutants for example, he could kill us all," Magneto finished harshly.

I could see the frenzy in his eyes, all of his fears were coming to the surface. I, too, was afraid. The Professor was psychic, surely he'd be able to hold out against a few soldiers?

He was in a wheelchair, I hoped he was okay, I didn't want to think of him being tortured. His kind eyes, patient demeanor, he'd never meant anyone harm. I thought about joining Magneto, offering peace wasn't going to help, hadn't Stryker proven that point.

"Wait a minute. How would Stryker even know where to find Cerebro in the first place?" Storm asked.

"Because I told him," Magneto said after a pause. "I helped Charles build it, remember? Mr. Stryker has powerful methods of persuasion."

I shared a grim look with Chris, that didn't bode well for the Professor or for us. There is a war coming and there's nothing that we can do to stop it. We have to take a stand or risk losing everything that we believe in. I saw how some people treated mutants.

Hatred, hostility, the Nazi's had done it in World War II, the Civil War was fought for a similar reason. It was happening all over again. History destined to repeat itself yet again. Mutant Registration will be part of the constitution and we won't have the chance to fight anymore.

I'd go down fighting, I knew Chris, Logan, Jon, all of them would. I wouldn't be put in a box, treated as a guinea pig, they'd have to kill me. Whatever they did with my body was their business, but I'd not be around to feel it.

"So, who's this Stryker anyway?" Jean asked.

"He's a military scientist. He spent his whole life trying to solve the mutant problem. If you want a more intimate perspective, why don't you ask Wolverine," all eyes turned to Logan.

Logan remained silent, eyes narrowed, distant, he was trying to remember. I hated Magneto's arrogant attitude. He'd been tortured, given information, what right did he have to take such an superior tone?

"You don't remember, do you? William Stryker, the only other man I know who can manipulate adamantium. The metal in your bones carries his signature."

"But the professor..." Logan started to say.

"The professor trusted you were smart enough to figure this out on your own. He gives you more credit than I do." Chris touched my arm to make sure that I wasn't going to do anything hasty.

What was Magneto's problem! I had no idea what Logan was going through, couldn't know, I'd never suffered from amnesia. Magneto, too, because he could manipulate metal, the adamantium that ran in Logan's body, that didn't give him any right to be so damned supercilious.

"Why do you need us," Storm asked crossing her arms.

"Mystique has discovered plans of a base that Stryker's been operating from for decades. We know that's where he's been building the second Cerebro. But we don't know where his base is. I believe one of you might." Magneto looked directly at Logan this time, calculating, plotting.

"The professor already tried," but again Logan was interrupted.

"Once again you think it's all about you," Magneto said haughtily. He looked up, Chris and I dropped lower to the ground in order to see whom he was staring at. Nightcrawler hung from the branches suspended by his tail.

He waved, smiled sheepishly, Chris and I laughed quietly. Apparently we weren't the only ones curious and left out. Nightcrawler dropped gracefully to the ground, the motion reminded me again of Mystique.

"Jean," Storm put her hand on Dr. Grey's shoulder, "is going to search your memories for information that could help us. Do you give you assent? It won't hurt you, we promise."

"Yes," Kurt said confidently standing his ground as Jean moved in front of him. His tail twitched like a cat's, agitated. His eyes flickered around the campfire nervously, but he didn't move.

"Just try and relax," Jean told him as she placed her hands on either side of his head. She closed her eyes and was lost in concentration. A few times she gasped and once cried out but other than that she was still. Nightcrawler jerked in her grasp at the end and Jean apologized. There was a haunted look in her eyes that matched the pain in his. What had he been through?

There was such innocence in him, it hurt me to think of him pained and ridiculed. I'd protect him, if given the chance. My stupidity, it had cost me in high-school to defend people like him, but, as always, feel first, deal with the consequences later. Nightcrawler made my list of people to watch out for.

One day, maybe, I'd grow out of the bad habit, let people who couldn't protect themselves learn how, but right now? It was out of the question. I was jaded enough to believe that no one was entirely innocent, but after looking into Kurt's eyes, I wasn't sure anymore.

"Stryker's at Alkali Lake," Jean said at last.

"That's where the Professor sent me. There's nothing left," Logan said uncrossing his arms.

"There's nothing left on the surface, Logan. The base is underground." Jean sighed.

Chris and I crept away then, seemed like the meeting was over. Everyone dispersed, Chris went to find Rogue, Nightcrawler and Mystique were talking, Jean was aboard the jet and Logan went to have a smoke his cigar.

Jon and I were left to talk then. Rogue and Bobby seemed to be ignoring him, probably angry at his display of power.

"So what'd they say," he asked me. We both sat on logs near the fire, I was smoking. He carried a lighter, I thought he smoked, too, but I'd been wrong.

"Stryker has a base at Alkali Lake and he's built another Cerebro. The Professor might be being used to control this machine and we're all in danger," I couldn't help my tone, too much processed all at once, I was feeling rather numb. A lot had happened in the past couple of days.

"So another normal day then," John flicked open his lighter. Sarcasm I understood, spoke fluently, another reason I liked Pyro.

"Yeah, I guess so. What happened with them," I motioned towards Bobby and Rogue. Jon snorted and closed the lighter again.

"I used words that were 'inappropriate' to say in front of a lady."

"You what," I gasped laughing aloud. "Who the hell said that to you?"

"Bobby," Jon grinned, "I said damn, a few other things, and the both of'em started nagging at me. From the way they carried on about it you'd think I'd killed their parents or something."

"He's cool though. Bobby, I mean, he's nice and all," I shrugged, another person who'd rather have peace than fight. I'd never understand them, but then, they'd never understand violence.

"Yeah, Bobby's great. It's just every now and then he gets a major conscience check or something. See with me, I don't give two shits about what happens. If it's going to happen, it will, good or bad, it doesn't matter in the long run. Fight or flee, what does it matter, really? The outcome will be the same regardless, you know?"

"I don't think so. I'd fight no matter what. I believe that we can change our fate or whatever it's called. I don't mean that one person fighting will make a difference, they'd be torn apart, but if enough of us fight... we might be able to change things."

"Trust me. I'd take anyone who tries to stop me. I don't believe in fate, either. If there is going to be a war, human against mutant, like everyone says, there'll be problems. We don't have a chance in hell against that. Not with the government fighting us. Sure, we'll rebel, take some of them down, but there are too many humans who'll stand against us. Are there that many mutants?"

"There are quite a few of us," I replied.

"Kids," he scoffed, "like Bobby, for example, they'd rather hide under the covers and pretend everything's going to go away. We need fighters, you, me, Chris, Wolverine. Jean and Storm'll fight, but they're women, no offense," he hastily retracted, "sorry."

"Meh," I shrugged, "you're right, but there'll be others who'll fight. Magneto will rouse them if no one else will. He's a real public speaker, got the past to back him."

"I'm thinking about it," he said quietly, "I mean, Magneto's got a point, right? I've been following the _war_ for a long time."

"So why'd you come to the Mansion?" I asked.

"I needed someplace to go. The Professor told me that I could come and go as I pleased. That was reason enough to stay," Jon looked down at his lighter again.

"What's up with that? Why do you have only that one?" I asked.

"It's something I like to keep with me. One thing I can remember without... never mind. I just like it, alright."

"Sure. Sorry, didn't mean to pry. I just don't like those long silences, ya know?"

Jon smiled hearing his words coming back to bite him, "so what about you? What are you doing here? Why didn't you leave with the others?"

"I couldn't," I replied.

"No one was stopping you. You could be free instead of sitting here in the back-ass of nowhere, waiting to have our fate decided by them," he jerked his head in the direction of Jean, Storm, and Logan.

"They don't decide our fate, they try to guide it a little, but no one dictates to me," I reassured him, "and I couldn't leave because... I didn't want to."

"But why not?" I sensed that John wasn't just talking about me this time.

"I don't leave my friends behind," I answered. "I notice that you stuck around, you could have been free, too. I didn't see you going for the tunnels."

"If there had been a choice, a real choice, I'd have left all of you," his eyes were dark, reflecting the campfire.

"To each their own," I met his stare with one of my own, "I wouldn't have left you, you had the chance, you didn't leave us. I couldn't leave Chris, Logan, I'd die for you guys, deal with it."

"I haven't done anything for you."

"Maybe I like you, tough guy, I think you're interesting," I watched his face register the compliment. Surprise, chagrin, anger, they all ran across his features. I understood the feeling.

"Great, I'll talk to you later. I'm going to sleep, it's been one helluva day."

"Night, Pyro," I let him light my cigarette before he headed for one of the tents. As exhausting as the day had been, I didn't want to sleep yet. Pyro was right, he was stronger than me. Not physically, I'm pretty sure I could take him in a fight, but I wouldn't have been able to leave any of them. It was something I fought myself over, I needed to accept it.

If I abandoned Chris or Logan, capable as they were, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I sighed, flicking the ashes into the campfire, I'd wanted to be free all my life yet I kept befriending people. The sad thing? The world would be a much darker place without them.

Why did I keep defending people like Bobby and Kurt? The world was a cruel place, no room for the weak, but then there were people like me. Chris, too, he'd saved my life, fought for Rogue's, what made us become this way? Why did some people fight and others roll over?

What would happen to them if no one stood up for them? They'd be fine, I was sure, beaten, but fine. Yet I still protected them. I stood up, it was time for a walk, I didn't want to think anymore. It always got me into trouble and I was too tired to stay up all night pondering things that would never change.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Hey," Chris said walking up to me.

"What's up," I asked. It was pretty late, everyone else was probably asleep. Chris had always been nocturnal like me. We used to talk late at night, watching movies together over the phone.

"Not much," he looked uneasy. "If I tell you something about Logan, promise not to kill me?"

"Yeah," I felt myself glare and couldn't help it. His tone sent dread spiraling through me. "Why would I kill you?"

"Because you like him," Chris teased.

"I do not," I denied. "What makes you think that?"

"You do. I know you like him. Think about it, will you? You nearly broke your fingers in the tunnel trying to claw your way through the wall. When anyone makes fun of him you think about taking them on. It's completely obvious that you like him."

"I do the same thing for you, so you have no excuse. When you went away people made fun of you, do you know how many times I defended you? C'mon, Chris. There's no leverage to be held over me here. Besides, I know that you like Rogue."

"So what if I do? Haven't you noticed that she has a boyfriend? Good chance I have there."

"You do, though. Bobby is awesome, but it's you that protects her. Don't think that she hasn't noticed that."

"I don't--"

"Yes, you do," I sighed, "you don't want me to lie to myself, don't you do the same. I'm turning the tables, I've seen the way you watch out for her. You put yourself in front of her, nearly dismantled me trying to go after her in the jet. I know she's noticed it."

"She hasn't said anything," Chris pointed out.

"What do you expect her to do? Corner you, pin you against the wall and thank you?" I asked. From the look on Chris' face he wouldn't have minded.

"So sick," I laughed, "I bet you haven't said anything to her about it, either, though, have you?"

"At least I'm not the one who likes a man seventy years older than me."

"Well let's hope you don't, anyway. Somehow I don't think Logan would take to that real well."

"You got my meaning," he said lightly punching me on the arm. "And I notice you haven't said anything to him about your feelings."

"Chris, there's a huge difference between telling Rogue you like her and me telling Logan, my teacher, that I have some sort of crush on him."

"It's all relative in the end, isn't it," he was guarding, I couldn't read him anymore.

"No," I replied patiently, "Rogue is your age, has noticed you, could possibly like you, in return. Logan, as you put it, is seventy years older than me, is my teacher, which you seem to be over-looking, and calls me kid when he thinks he can get away with it."

"He calls everyone under the age of thirty kid," Chris scoffed, "but I can see your point. It'd be daunting telling the Wolverine that you like him."

"That'd be the easy part," I said chucking my cigarette into the bushes, "the hard part would be seeing his reaction. I know it wouldn't end favorably. Now, what were you going to tell me about him? It can't be good or you'd have said it without all of this build up."

"I overheard a conversation between Logan and Jean. They were talking about..."

"Let me guess," I rolled my eyes, "Scott?"

"See, I can't tell you now. You're going to be upset."

"I'm not going to be upset," I sighed, "I've come to terms with everything a long time ago. He's exactly the type I'd fall for, its not him, its what he's like, that's it."

"Well, fine, but anyway, I heard them talking when I was with Rogue." He glanced at me daring me to say anything. I was smart enough not to try, if I made fun of him again he would never tell me.

"Does Jean finally realize that she likes him," I inquired.

"No, in fact. Well, it went something like this-- Logan comforts her, she rejects him, he tries one last time, and then they kiss. But she left," he said quickly.

"Hang on! Don't talk so fast. Logan told her that he liked her?"

"Not quite," Chris was studying my face so intently I don't think he was paying attention to his words. "He said that he would be the good guy that sticks around."

"Huh?" I was so confused. Nothing he'd said thusfar made any sense to me.

"Jean said that girls flirt with the dangerous type, but they don't take him home because they marry the good guy. Then Logan said that he could be the good guy for her. They kissed and Jean asked him, basically, not to make her choose because she loved Scott."

"Wow," I was still blessedly numb, "that's horrible for him. He got a kiss, though, that'll give him hope."

"Doesn't everyone search for hope," Chris asked quietly still studying my face.

"The search always ends somewhere," I smiled. "See, I'm fine."

"Sure, you are," he retorted, "cause you're rooting for them, right?"

"Exactly! I want Logan to be happy, but Jean thinks she loves Scott. He's a nice guy, sure, like Bobby, but the nice guys can't hold girls like Jean and Rogue. They're dangerous in and of themselves."

"Like you," Chris stated.

"I wouldn't go that far," I raised an eyebrow at him, "because I don't go for the nice, pansy, good guys. I like my guys tough and leather-clad."

"And involved with someone else," he replied, "I didn't mean that in a bad way, but its true. You pick guys that like other people, that you don't think you have a chance getting, ever wonder why?"

"I don't like relationships," I sighed, "I want a guy to have fun with, you know? No commitment necessary."

"I don't want a relationship, either," Chris said.

"And yet here we are," I laughed.

Chris laughed at that, too, "I just wanted you to know so you wouldn't be disappointed when you found out that Logan likes Jean."

"I knew already. You knew it too, everyone in the mansion did." I countered, confused again.

"I didn't know that you had figured it out. Ray was one thing, but..."

"Ray was always an egotistical asshole. I never liked him, not really, I only went out with him that one time because I wanted to know what it was like to date someone. He didn't really like me either, he just did it because he wanted to get back at his old girlfriend."

"You would pick the person most likely to ruin relationship for you," he growled thinking about him. "Why did you bother?"

"I understand manipulation. We got along alright, at the time, why shouldn't I have gone out with him to a movie. It's just too bad that we 'happened' to run into his ex there, too." I sighed again, "I don't care, anyway."

"Yeah, now you have Logan." Chris shot a stream of fire at the stars. The flames evaporated in the cool air.

"As you so eloquently put it, Logan has someone. Or will have someone when Jean wakes up. I'm seventeen years old, Chris. Nothing can possibly happen, I accept it, you've proven it, what are you getting at?"

"Only one more thing I have to say before I drop the matter forever. You say nothing can happen, not that you don't want anything to happen. You like him." Chris stared at me, unflinchingly, "and it hurts like hell to like someone who doesn't, or won't, like you in return, but you do it anyway."

"Chris--"

"And he's a bastard for not knowing, for leading you on like he has--"

"He hasn't done any such thing," I snapped.

"Yes, he has. That night furniture was flying, you went into his room, the door closed, and you were in there an hour or more. You're always smoking with him, talking to him. He's blind, doesn't see it, but I know the way he looks at you. He respects you."

"Go sleep, Chris."

"All the advice you've given me over the years, listen to me. He respects you, he doesn't treat you like you're seventeen, as you say, and as old as he is, the way he looks, I don't think age matters all that much. He talks to you, I've seen the two of you fight together."

"Oh, please, I don't stand a chance. He's a billion times better than I'll ever be. Let it go, Chris."

"He doesn't make you leave. I see him sometimes watch you when you aren't looking. He seems, sort of, ashamed of it afterwards, but he does it sometimes. He doesn't see you as a kid."

"Any girl wearing fishnets and a corset is going to get a look," I rolled my eyes.

"I'm just saying, giving you a little hope like you give me."

"He's my teacher--"

"You keep saying," Chris sighed, "fine, whatever, but at least tell him?"

"He loves Jean," I took a deep breath, "I give you hope because I know its possible. If I tell him it'll ruin a friendship, I don't want him to be guarded and distant around me because he thinks it'll hurt me to be my friend."

"What does it hurt to try?"

"You're just-- gah!" I was exasperated, tired of this conversation, "you're wearing two shirts, give me the top one? This corset really hurts."

Chris shrugged out of his t-shirt and threw it to me, "just think about it."

"Thanks for the shirt," I motioned for him to leave so I could change.

Shaking his head, Chris walked to the tents, I noticed he hesitated in front of Rogue's. He kept walking, I put the t-shirt on and unzipped the corset able to take a full breath for the first time in awhile. It wasn't a real corset with whalebones and waist-cinching, but running around and fighting in it had been annoying.

Did Chris have a point? I didn't think so. His advice would be good if Logan were a student, but he wasn't. I was a girl, he was a man. It hurt, yes, now that I focused on feeling true emotions.

I know of at least two girls in the mansion who have a crush on him. So what if I did like him? He fought with me, understood the rage, there was a bond there, but it wasn't based on attraction or lust. I _was_ a student of his, there was no changing that fact, and telling him would only cause a rift that would hurt me more.

He didn't need to know, Logan certainly wasn't leading me on. He'd made his reasoning clear when we spoke in his room, he had called me kid then, too. I sighed, I was tired, emotionally overloaded.

My watch read eleven o'clock I took in one last deep breath and headed to the tents. Eleven was earlier than I'd thought it to be, early by my standards, but it'd been a really long day. The evening had been even longer.

I laid down in the tent and tried to relax. Sleep would be good, if only my mind would shut down. Chris had a chance with Rogue, damn him for trying to change my mind.

Before I'd been kept busy so my mind wouldn't have time to wander. Now, however, tired as I was, I couldn't stand being inside the dark tent. I needed fresh air, the night around me, stars above me.

As I left the tent I saw Jean go into Logan's. Well, it was about time. They both were attracted to one another, now was the perfect time for Jean to admit her feelings.

I was an idiot. Chris was right, I fell for the guys that liked other people, that were unavailable. I didn't do it on purpose, at least I don't think I did. I'd find a guy one day, someone who was free, what I wanted, and not intent on tying me down. What I needed now was freedom. I had the entire forest at my disposal, the whole night to think.

Screw it all, I was fine, I'd always be fine. I had friends, my knives, and fire. Anything else could go to hell.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Authors Note: So the Wolverine I use in my fic is a mix of the movie-verse Wolverine and those from the comics. I don't know exactly what he'd say or do, but I hope I got his character right...

I wandered for awhile keeping track of the trees, making sure to keep camp in sight. Thoughts raced through my mind, images of Jean and Logan kept creeping in, but I shoved them away. I didn't want to think about any of it.

I sank down onto a log throwing a few small flames at it to send any insects inside running. I watched the stars, breathed in pine and darkness. The thoughts quieted a little bit, peace descended. My shields were up, resolute and unyielding, I was able to construct them to keep all emotions at bay.

I took a deep breath, it was time to face them. I'd have to eventually or my shields wouldn't work. I imagined them crashing down and as they did I faced them. I focused on the anger first, that was the easiest.

Anger at the soldiers, anger at Bobby's parents, I embraced the emotion. It was the one I harbored, fed, kept stored for emergencies. How dare they infiltrate our home? They'd tried to kill us, bastards, all of them. Did I feel bad for killing them? It was time to soul-search.

No, I didn't feel anything but satisfaction. I'd happily kill more of them, they'd threatened me, my friends, my home, I'd have ripped through them with my knives had it not been for their damn tranquilizers.

Fear came next. Fear for the kids, for the Professor, for us. I really hoped the kids had gotten away. Colossus would protect them, the older kids would watch out for them. Jubilee, Kitty could phase through walls and people, she'd be fine. The Professor was strong, he had psychic capabilities, telekinesis, he'd be able to force his will on anyone who stood in his way.

He loved his students, he'd fight for them and his school. As for us, I was confident in all of us. Chris, me, Logan, Jean, Storm, Magneto, even, and Mystique, we all had different agendas, different reasons for fighting, but we all worked for the same cause. We'd fight and whomever fought us would face eradication.

With fear came happiness. I was happy that we were alive, that I'd made the decision to stay. I had been able to see Magneto and Mystique, we'd almost died on the jet, sure, but it was worth it now. I had fought against those who attacked us without hesitation. I was strong enough to do what needed to be done without being burdened by guilt or morality.

Next?

This was the emotion I hated the most. Sadness. I had no defenses against sadness, when I let it take me, like now, there was no stopping it. I forced myself to breathe through the pain. Chris' shirt helped, I laughed a little, I wouldn't be wearing corsets for awhile.

Sad, why was I sad? It took a minute for me to focus without shying away. I was sad because our home had been destroyed. It would take a lot of repairs before the Mansion was again home. I was sad and disappointed in people like Bobby's parents, mine, anyone who supported Mutant Registration.

Why couldn't they see us as people? One gene and the world turned on us. There were just as many mutants that used their power for good as those who used them for nefarious purposes. Kitty could walk through walls, but she'd never rob a bank.

Jean could read minds and memories, but she'd never use the information against anyone. Another point, Jean and Logan. Yes, I was sad about the situation. I was sad for Logan who loved her when she loved Scott.

My pride was hurt for him, who had so much to offer, while Scott was so damnably good and proper. I was sad for myself, I had fallen for him, more than I'd like to admit, when the whole thing was hopeless.

I was sad because nothing but time would change things. I had forced myself to believe I was fine, something I was good at, but it made moving on so much more difficult.

Next?

"Kaldraya," Logan stepped into the clearing. My heart nearly stopped and I tried in vain to bring the shields up again. I looked at my watch, jesus, I'd been sitting on this log for two hours.

"What? Are we ready to leave," I asked. I cursed silently, my voice was groggy and hoarse. What a way to prove a point.

"In half an hour. What's the matter," he asked sitting next to me on the log.

"Nothing-" but then I stopped. It was too late, he'd read my face already. How could I tell him? I didn't want to talk about this with anyone let alone him.

"You can't let whatever you're feeling drag you down, it'll end up taking over, eating at you. Don't let that happen," he said quietly.

"I'm stronger than that," I was marveling at the irony. "I was just sorting through it, coming to terms, I'm fine."

"No. You can go back and forth through over this until every second is memorized, but in the end it won't help the pain go away. It's survival, Kaldraya, you or them. I think you did a damn good job considering the circumstances."

"What?" I asked. "Oh."

He thought I was upset because I'd killed people. I wanted to laugh hysterically. If only that were the reason.

"You've killed people before, haven't you?" I focused on his tone. He was so calm about it, the way I felt. Killing, so long as they're trying to kill you, it was all okay. I knew that already, but talking about this was easier than the real subject.

"More times that I can count," he replied. "Which just goes to show that I know what I'm talkin about."

"I know." It was suddenly very cold, the tips of my fingers were nearly frozen. I looked up at the sky and found peace again. "They never change do they," I said. Logan looked up too.

"No. They never do," he answered.

"I wonder how much they've seen. Thousands of wars, the love and hate the worlds been through. All of the different ages, civilizations. and then we finally understand that they're going to be here long after we're gone," I shivered at the sudden chill that ran down my spine.

"Here," Logan held out his leather jacket.

"You won't be cold?" I asked feeling the knife twist.

"Don't worry. I don't get cold easy," he grinned.

"Thank you," I said putting it on. I was warm almost at once, and I could smell cigar smoke, forest, and a faint smell of gasoline. I glanced over at him working up the courage to ask and tell.

I felt it then, a connection between us. We understood one another, had the same goal and purpose in mind. I could never hope to be as strong or tough as he, but I had the same determination he did.

Chris was a lot like Logan in that way, too. We had all taken the powers that fate decided to hand us without complaint, adjusting to the new way of life without a backwards glance. All we had to rely on was ourselves, family wanted nothing to do with us and we could take care of ourselves. Natural born leaders, do what's needed to get the job done and worry about the consequences later.

"You like Jean, huh?" The words were out before I could stop them.

"Where'd you get that idea," he asked gruffly.

"I see a lot," I smiled. "She was heading into your tent as I was leaving mine."

He stared at me for awhile, I lit a cigarette avoiding his scrutiny for the first time. It was cowardly, but I felt as though my heart were on my sleeve. My nerves were raw, I was tired, this conversation wasn't going to end well.

"It wasn't her," he said tersely lighting his cigar with an angry ferocity.

"Oh," I said stupidly for the second time. "I'm sorry."

"What're you askin' for?"

I shrugged not trusting myself to speak. There were so many things I wanted to say, to ask, this was my chance. I was alone with him in the forest, I had complete privacy, I was pretty sure the conversation would never leave this clearing. Stop being such a pansy, I admonished myself, just say it.

"I think you know," was all I could manage.

"Yeah," he said after a few seconds passed, "I think I do."

"It's illogical, I know," I said to fill the silence, "I'm just a kid to you. You're how many years older than me? You've done so many things in your lifetime, the way you fight... and Jean... I've been your student... I wasn't going to tell you. It'll pass, it's just a crush. I know other girls who have a crush on you. I didn't want to say anything about it, I didn't want anything to change, y'know?"

"Don't be afraid to trust people. That's why you have friends, to be able to talk to'em and trust them. Living life alone is just too damn hard, especially if you start now."

I remained quiet knowing he wasn't done yet. The silence was anticipatory, he was choosing his words carefully. I'd wait, hard as it was, to hear the words that could rip me to shreds.

"First off," he said, "nothing is going to change, at least on my end. Second, I stopped being your teacher when the Stryker's men came to the School. I don't think that ever was a reason for you because I haven't ever been a teacher to you. I'm not teacher material," he grinned, "or at least I'm not very good at it."

Stay quiet, I told myself, don't hope for anything, he isn't done yet and he's trying not to hurt your feelings.

"Third, you aren't a kid. No kid would have risked their life to wait for someone like me. You stayed, fought, didn't give up, that means a lot." There was a darkness to his eyes. I knew I'd never understand where it came from, what brought it on, but darkness I could understand.

"I don't abandon the people I care about," I said. "You came with us even though you didn't want to, Chris came back for me when he could have been free."

"You aren't a kid," he repeated, "and you're right about a lot of things, but I had to set some of them straight. I wish I could give you the answer you want, but..."

"I know," I smiled wryly, "I wasn't expecting to hear it, but I guess I wanted some sort of conclusion."

"I was talking to your friend earlier, he had some good points. He called me a bastard," Logan laughed, "took guts, but he worries about you."

"Not as worried as he should be for himself," I snarled. Chris, oh, he was dead.

"Don't fly off the handle, you'd have done the same thing. And he did have some good points. You fight like hell, I can respect that, you have passion in you, that, too, is worth a lot in this world. I don't see you as a kid, like I said before, but I can't..."

My heart was in my throat. At the very least, this was the best rejection speech in the course of history. And I knew that nothing would change, he'd still see me as a friend, the bond was intact despite my insane declaration.

"... it wouldn't be right. Not with..."

"Jean," I supplied.

"You don't deserve that, I dont' mean to lead you on or anything," Chris' words again, I thought, "but I have the feeling you'd prefer truth. And nothing'll change, I can promise you that."

"That's the only thing that really mattered to me."

"And, your friend, Chris, why aren't the two of you together? I've seen the way you fight together, he's always got an eye on you."

"We're friends, we've been friends for a really long time. There's nothing romantic there, I swear."

"Isn't that his shirt you're wearing," Logan raised his eyebrow.

"Isn't this your jacket?" I laughed.

"Fair enough," he chuckled.

"Alright, I've got to get some sleep. We've probably got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Keep it," Logan shook his head when I shrugged out of the jacket. "Looks better on you, anyway."

"Flirting, you? Wow."

"Truth, there's a difference," he snorted.

Before I left, "And, nothing changes, you can talk to me about... anything, you know? That's what friends are for, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, "its late, there's time enough for more talkin' tomorrow."

"Good night, Logan." I wanted to hug him, but he looked like he was the one who needed time to think.

I was blissfully content, that had gone much better than I'd thought. The outcome was the same, but he was still a friend, we'd talked, the comfortable aura was still intact. I'd probably never know him as anything but a friend, yet I was happy with that.

Somehow, despite the mild rejection, banter, and deeper understanding we'd moved our friendship up a notch. I liked that he thought I was capable, competent, that he trusted me.

And, hell, I could flirt with him a little now. It'd never go beyond that, but I liked the teasing light that came to his otherwise all-too serious eyes. They called him the Wolverine, but he'd been damn near gentlemanly tonight.

And Chris, I'd have run my knife through him if I didn't care about him so much. We'd make it through this, Magneto, Mutant Registration, bring all of it on. I felt light as a feather, exhausted, but happy.

I fell asleep easily, warm, smelling the forest and cigar smoke. I'd go back and think about what had been said later. I wanted to be happy, at least for one night, there was plenty of time to think. And hope.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Authors Note: It's been forever since I wrote another chapter to this story. I've been writing POTC, OUATIM, and Johnny Depp fanfics; neglecting this, whoops. So here goes. So I watched X-Men 2 yesterday on the way to PA, and this is what resulted.

I helped clear the tents and douse the campfire. It was time for us to be moving on. Magneto and Mystique would be joining us on the X-Jet. No one could refuse seeing as he'd saved our lives and had information on the Professor's whereabouts. While a few of us were wary of their presence, all of us were prepared to make nice and try to keep the peace. For the time being, at any rate.

"They're on layaway, should arrive in a couple'a years." Logan said as Chris and I both did our sweep of the jet. I caught his eye, flickering his gaze to the uniforms in the glass cabinet and Bobby, I got the gist of his joke.

I had thought things would be a little awkward, but it was as he'd promised. Nothing seemed to have changed. I wore Logan's leather jacket, much to Chris' amusement, though I noticed Rogue was still wearing his.

Magneto and Mystique were both laughing quietly together as they looked to Rogue.

"We just love what you've done with your hair," Magneto drawled.

Chris took a menacing step forward at the sudden pained anger on her shocked expression. That was my cue to restrain Chris from launching his attack. Bobby turned her away from them and Chris' eyes narrowed with the effort it was taking him not to kindle them to pieces.

Things calmed down somewhat after that, Chris no longer wanted to behead Magneto and they both refrained from making fun of those on the jet. How long the peace would last was questionable, but no one seemed willing to start another fight.

John was sitting closest to them, no one else wanted to. I knew what Magneto's theories were, I liked them a lot better than Xavier's, but I didn't like the man behind all his survivalist talk. It was hard to relate to someone who spoke so arrogantly.

"What's your name," Magneto asked commanding control over Jon's lighter.

"Jon," he replied looking defiantly at the lighter. Magneto had better watch out, I'd seen John enact revenge on people for lesser offenses.

"What's your real name, Jon?"

"Pyro," taking the flame from the lighter, he placed it in the palm of his hand before making it go out. "But I can only manipulate the fire-"

'Hey," Chris said whispering in my ear. "You know, aside from him being an asshole-"

"You're a god among insects, never let anyone tell you different," Magneto gave the lighter back.

"-he's really pretty cool," I sighed at the look that passed between he and Mystique. Would Jon leave the X-Men? They sure seemed to be counting on it.

"The base is located on Alkali Lake... the density changes in the terrain, those are tire-tracks." I heard Storm say. I should have been paying attention, this was a battle strategy, tactics, information we'd benefit from hearing. I kept my mind on Storm and Chris, who was still whispering to me.

"So the wars finally started, eh?"

"I guess so, but who'd guess it'd be against a deranged scientist," I shrugged. "I always figured the 'normal' humans'd start it."

"Yeah, go figure." Chris looked up just in time to hear, "... he'll flood the spillway."

"I'll go. I have a hunch he'll want me alive." Logan uncrossed his arms and something feral ran through him.

"And when you reach the spillway, what do you intend to do? Scratch it with your claws?" Magneto smirked.

"I'll take my chances." Logan snapped.

It made me wonder, would Logan drown? Was he, in anyway, mortal? I know his healing factor far outweighed mine. Everything healed, bruises, open wounds, the tranquilizers had little to no affect on him. Would his body regenerate itself if he drowned or burned? His skeletal system virtually ensured that none of his bones would ever break.

He was ninety years old and looked thirty. Would he always look thirty? It was depressing to think about, people he had grown up with were long dead. He was so tough and confident, fighter to the core, but had the loss of everyone he knew caused that? What would he be like in another ninety years? Was I aging? I didn't want to look eighteen forever.

"I won't," Magneto replied smugly.

In the end it was Mystique who walked down the spillway disguised as Logan. We could hear what was going on, but we couldn't see it. This all depended on Stryker's gullibility and his ties to Logan.

I didn't see the point. Whether it was Logan or Mystique disguised as him, what was the difference? Did Mystique have other powers aside from shape-shifting that would be better than Logan's combat experience?

It was a gamble, but we were the ones with the ace up our sleeve. Everyone was tense, waiting for victory or defeat. Magneto was the only one who seemed aloof and nonchalant He either had complete confidence in her, or he didn't care.

"You think she'll pull it off," Jon asked coming to stand next to us.

"It'll be damn close." I could hear Logan's voice call for Stryker. "What d'you think?"

"She will," Chris said positively. "Magneto wouldn't have sent her if he wasn't sure."

"Are you sure?"

I studied Magneto. He had a fervor about him that I'd seen on religious fanatics. How far would he go to support his cause? I knew he and Mystique were partners, but would he hesitate to use her as a pawn? He was using us, though he didn't know any of us, did he care about her at all? I'm sure her abilities were a draw for him, she could impersonate anyone, become anything, so I'd heard.

She had managed to free him, masqueraded as Senator Kelly, but would he have done the same for her? He was the brains of the operation, would he have expended the same energy to free her from prison had their roles been reversed?

"He's not the bad guy." John interrupted staring at me fiercely, "he's not anything, on no one's side."

"He's on a side, his own," I replied grimly, "and I'm wondering if you'll be on that side when all of this is over?"

"Don't know yet," he sighed. "It all depends on whether or not we make it out, doesn't it."

"We'll live," Chris snapped leaving no room for argument, "I don't plan on dying here, the middle of nowhere. Screw'em, there's no goddamn way."

"Oh shit." I heard Logan swear, "she screwed up."

"What are you talking about?" Magneto scoffed.

"She let herself be handcuffed," Logan explained. "That was the test, the guards he sent out were fodder. He knows."

"Impossible."

"If it's one thing I know, it's my own work. Shoot it," we heard Stryker's voice.

I watched Logan's jaw tense at Stryker's voice. He scanned the screen watching for a glimpse of the man who had a key to his past. 'My own work' was Stryker responsible for Logan's memory loss and adamantium skeleton? So much was coming together for me.

We heard the scuffle of a fight happening on the other end, then nothing but silence.

"I'm in," the quiet broke with the sound of keys being pressed. Mystique was in the control room typing commands into the computer. She looked as cocky as Magneto.

"She's good," Logan remarked.

"You have no idea." Magneto smiled, but this time there was no malice in his voice.

It was an unspoken agreement between the adults that us 'kids' stay onboard the jet. Logan objected on our behalf arguing that we could hold our own in a fight. Chris and I voiced our objections, we had come all this way to sit on a jet? Jean and Kurt said it was too dangerous and we shouldn't be subjected to it. Storm didn't say anything, but she didn't choose a side either. Magneto and Mystique watched in amusement.

"You want to go," Rogue asked once the hatch-way had closed.

"No," Bobby replied.

"Damn straight, I do," I said fiercely. "What was all that training for if they never intended us to use it?"

"Exactly," Chris said, "we fought at the Mansion, no one called us kids then. They go into a fortified building, soldiers all over the place, they don't think we'd be useful?"

"Hell yeah," Jon crossed his arms, "this is real life. We can go if we want to, who are they to stop us?"

Chris, Jon and I were in complete agreement. I think a decision had been made, we were going to follow them.

"Combat, Survival, we all took the class, we learned the basics and then some. Logan and Scott, they prepared us for a situation like this. I'm not staying here while--"

"All those sessions," Chris interrupted, "if they die, what are we going to do? Anyone know how to fly a jet? They need our help. We were prepared for today, this day, I'm not waiting around to see who comes back."

"No, that was for something _like_ this day," Bobby objected.

"Grammar games? We've passed the point here, guys, no turning back now. We've got blood on our hands, what's a little more?" I stared at Bobby and Rogue, it was their decision to make, I wasn't going to try to peer pressure them into anything.

"Well Bobby has a point," Rogue protested. "We're safe here."

"Safe," Jon scoffed, "yeah."

"We out," I asked, already standing.

"I am," Chris said going to the lever that would open the door.

"But... you can't!" Rogue looked torn, "we're going to get into trouble."

"We're going to get dead if we don't do something." Jon said.

"Jon, please don't." Rogue pleaded. "Chris, Kaldraya?"

"You two go," Jon sat down at the table and crossed his arms on the wooden surface, "I want to talk to them for a minute. I'll catch up with you later."

"Go-"Chris pushed me gently towards the opening. I kept the shock from my face. I was surprised that Chris hadn't opted to stay with her. Apparently, right and wrong outweighed attraction. Would I have made the same decision if Logan and Chris were sitting there?

No, I shook my head, I wouldn't have had to make the decision.

It was beyond freezing outside, the entire tundra was covered in blinding white snow. The wind sent it's icy fingers through my skin and made my hands shake horribly. I couldn't feel my legs, the only reason we kept running was because warmth waited for us inside.

I was dying. I could actually feel my lungs slowly freezing. I wasn't immune to freezing, another good thing to note. Anger raged inside of me, little good it did against the ice and wind. We weren't dying in the snow, that'd just be... it wasn't happening. I glanced at Chris, his skin was tinged blue.

"Hang on a second," he grabbed my arm to halt our progress.

"Chris--" I'd happily die for him, but if we didn't get inside that scenario would come sooner rather than later.

"I know! Just hold still a minute."

He fired a line of fire straight at me. Chris must have been practicing, the fire didn't evaporate right away. I felt it dance along my skin, I gasped expecting the pain to start, but the fire extinguished shortly thereafter.

It was terrifying watching him repeat the process on himself. He was engulfed in fire for a second. There was no doubt in his eyes, either he'd tested it out or he hid his fear well.

The warmth lasted as we reached the spillway. The spillway loomed before us, ominous, threatning. Knowing that we could be submerged underwater by the dropping of a lever... not altogether comforting. Mystique was in charge, she wouldn't kill us, though if things had gone wrong?

Chris was playing with the wires on one of the communicative devices. He cut some of them with his knife, interchanged a few. After a few seconds I heard Logan's voice come through the headset.

"How did you do that," I asked, staring at him.

"Talent," Chris grinned. We walked down the passageway mindful of icy patches. Darkness surrounded us despite the lights on the walls.

"McGyver and James Bond," I muttered. He had changed the wires around so that only Logan could hear and answer us. Chris had always excelled in things like that, rewiring a computer so he could hack into the main database, bypassing passwords or confidential sites.

"Where do we go from here?" Chris asked. "Right, left, into the main room? Yeah, we got it." We followed the directions, everything looked the same, all the rooms were identical. Metal and steel, same lighting, had we not stayed on the path Logan devised for us, we'd have been lost for a long time.

Ten minutes passed, I couldn't hear Logan's voice or any of the others through the device Chris held. Had we lost reception? Were we going the right way? I heard Chris breathe a sigh of relief. Storm, Jean and Kurt were standing in a circular room.

"Where's Wolverine," Chris asked.

Jean looked around blankly, "he's gone."

I noticed a device sitting on the table in front of us, I picked it up.

"I'd really not expect him back anytime soon," Chris said drawing attention to what I held, "he left all traces of communication behind."

Authors Note 2: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! Im glad to see that there are still people out there rooting for X-Men! I cant wait to see who the next gambit's going to be. One of my guesses is Ethan Hawke. I don't know if he's masculine enough for the role, but he could do a Cajun accent and pull it off, I think.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Logan, what have you done," Jean asked staring at the transcom device.

Logan had a chance for answers, were any of them really surprised that he'd gone to find them? He might know how to be a team-player, but he was a loner. Chris traded our device for the one Logan had left behind. We'd be able to stay in contact with the others that way. Keep tabs, run if someone needed help.

"Why don't you two go back to the jet," Jean asked.

"We don't know where Scott is," Storm said, "its dangerous for you here."

"Yes," Kurt agreed, his accent thicker due to concern for us, "this place isn't for children."

"They aren't children," Magneto drawled, "and its their decision. We're all free to make our own choices. They chose to be here. Why not let them help?"

"We can take the kids back to the jet," I saw the screens where students of the Mansion were huddled together in rooms. Not all of them were here, though I saw Jubilee and a few other familiar faces. All of them looked terrified and cold, some of them were looking for ways out of the room.

Stryker had rigged the holding cells with some sort of electrical barrier. Anyone who touched the door or walls received a shock. Kitty wasn't present, unfortunately, she could have phased through the walls to free the students.

Jean was going in search of Scott and the Professor, Chris and I decided to stay in the background and take out soldiers. The place was a viable fortress complete with the army guarding it. We saw some of the people who had invaded the Mansion among their ranks.

We waited until Storm and Nightcrawler had left to save the children before following behind Magneto and Mystique. I had heard enough of the conversation aboard the Jet to know what was going on.

Stryker had the Professor and was trying to use him against the mutants. That had been his sole purpose in infiltrating our School. He had wanted Cerebro, once attaining entry to the machine, he'd built a copy of it here. It functioned in much the same way as the Professor's Cerebro.

We needed to find, and stop, Stryker before he used the Professor to target all of the mutants. It was Magneto's worry that Charles would be able to connect his mind to all of us and use his psychic link to wipe us out. Quickly, cleanly, it would solve any problems concerning Mutant Registration and Control. There would be no mutants left to cause a problem.

The excuse I had given Storm wasn't just a distraction method. It seemed the most productive thing for us to do. We knew the way back to the Jet, once we'd followed Magneto, taking out some of the solders we'd seen on the video screens, we could meet up with Storm and Kurt and lead the children out of here.

"Scott?" Jean breathed right before a blast of red hit the ceiling above us. Chris dragged me to the floor with him and Jean used a surge of telekinetic power to protect Magneto and Mystique.

We watched as another flash of red rebounded off one of the walls.

"This is one lovers' quarrel we cannot get involved in, my dear," Magneto said with a sideways glance at Mystique. She nodded and they continued down the corridor, it was harder for Chris and I to follow suit.

Jean was a friend of ours, a teacher, a mentor, and we couldn't leave her to face Scott all alone. At least that's what I thought, Chris was leaning more towards Magneto's way of thinking.

"You know, he's right, Draya," he glanced at where Jean had disappeared among the shadows. "They won't want us to be here if they fight. Would you?"

"But we can't leave her! What if he hurts her?"

"He loves her, he won't hurt her. Come on, we have guards to kill and things to do."

"Chris..." I was still torn in two, if Jean were injured it would be on us because we had left.

"We'll only be a distraction to them, more harm than good. Let's go, Kaldraya, they'll be fine."

The look in his blue-gray eyes bade me go with him, so that's what I did. There was a red flash of light from below, but we kept walking. The two of them would sort things out and then, no doubt, want some alone time to make up for the misunderstanding.

Jean was the more powerful of the two, and Chris, though it pained to admit, was right. The two of us, with our control of fire, didn't stand much chance against the red lasers that Cyclops commanded. Jean, however, did, she could freeze him in place, put up shields around herself, if we were there her attention would be divided between protecting herself and us.

We passed generators, strangely colored walls, more reinforced doors. This whole place was eerie, how could no one have been aware of what Stryker had built? The scary thought-- maybe our government had been aware. If they had, in any way, helped Stryker in his genocidal plan, none of us had a chance. We might stop Stryker, but they'd keep coming until all of the mutants were dead.

There was a crash from behind us, but Chris and I didn't look back. That was Jean and Scott, still fighting, I wanted to go back to see if she needed help. I forced myself to continue walking. Chris was scouting the walls to see if there was any coordinated plan or map to show us where we were going.

A few seconds later I felt something wet fall from the ceiling. Looking up I saw that the walls had shifted and that water was seeping in through the cracks.

"Think it's alright," I asked.

"It had better be," Chris' eyes were dark as he surveyed the damage. "I don't plan on drowning today."

"It's interesting though," I was thinking about Scott versus Jean. "Stryker turning us against ourselves, he didn't need his army after all. Not if he can get us to kill one another."

"He obviously wasn't counting on our resourcefulness," he grinned maliciously, turning down a different corridor now, away from Mystique and Magneto. At the end of this hallway were more guards, he shot flames at their guns and knocked it out of their hands.

Now that they weren't armed I used my fire to take one after the other down. The grenades at their waists would be no use, I noticed that none of the soldiers went for them. The blast would kill them, and us, and probably bring the base down around us, as well. They would avoid that at all costs, their plan was to protect Stryker and the fortress until the plan was seen through.

One of the soldiers called for backup, they surrounded us coming out of the locked rooms in front of us. I was thankful to all of the training I'd done in the Danger Room. This was reminiscent of one of the simulations. Chris knocked their weapons to the ground, disintegrated them, and I had his back as they moved in.

Both of us were fighting, a knife in each hand, back to back. There were nine soldiers around us, we kept changing fighting stances to keep them off-balance. Chris conjured a wall of fire as one of them viciously kicked me in the shin. I caught my breath and stood careful to keep my weight off the leg until my muscles relaxed.

The wall disintegrated, five left. I darted in, knife held horizontally in my hand. I slashed one across the throat, drove my second knife into another's chest. Chris buried the longer of his two knives into a downed soldier's heart.

I cursed as stars exploded across my vision, a second blow lodged my breath somewhere in my throat. I doubled over, the last kick to my stomach left me, momentarily, defenseless. I called my fire, threw a fireball, the man stumbled back trying to extinguish the flame that spread across his torso.

Chris was scratched from where one had pulled a knife, bleeding from a wound across his temple, but he finished off his assailant with a roundhouse kick to the face. The man's neck cracked as he hit the ground. He wiped the blood from his face, my wounds were closing. Both of us watched my attacker writhing on the ground. I buried my knife in his chest with both hands watching as the life left his eyes.

"Shit," Chris muttered spitting blood. "Listen."

More guards, I could hear their rhythmic footfalls on the hollow metal ground. I couldn't tell from what direction they were coming. The sounds echoed around us.

"How many do you think there are?"

"Twenty? Maybe more," he replied staring at the T'd intersection from where they would box us in. "They'll be armed. though."

"How are we going to disarm them all," I didn't know if my healing powers were the same as Logan's. Now didn't seem the time to test it. I knew Chris wasn't equipped at all to face gunshot wounds. Leather jackets were great for road accidents, but worth no protection against bullets. I had boots, he had sneakers, and we had our knives... not good against highly trained men set upon destruction.

"Stay here for now." He pulled back into the safety of the wall, they couldn't see us and we couldn't see them. "When they cross here try to knock the weapons out of their hands."

"Alright." They came closer, even closer, my hands shook with rampant adrenaline. Chris moved a split second before of me, enough for his back to be completely vulnerable to their attack.

I cursed as I aimed green fire at the guns. A few bullets zinged through the air and lodged themselves in the walls behind us. If they had been marksmen we would have died. The thought of death hadn't crossed my mind, seriously, until then.

I knew that this wasn't a game, that they would hurt us, kills us, if they could. Yet the realization hadn't sunk in until I felt one of the bullet's nick my flesh. Had it been four or five inches to the right, I'd be dead. We might be mutants, but that didn't stop the blood from circulating through our hearts.

"Chris," I yelled. One of the men had pulled a tab on his grenade.

"Run," Chris screamed. He and I tore back across the hallway wishing that Bobby had been there to put up an ice wall. I don't know how good ice would have been against a grenade, but at least ice was solid. Chris' wall of fire would detonate the grenade that much sooner, we'd be in no fewer amount of pieces.

Around the corner towards where Jean had faced Scott we realized that there wasn't any explosion or further cracking of the walls. The grenade's fuse must not have lit properly or maybe the guard had done something to it so that it didn't detonate.

"This way," I pointed to a darkened hallway. If they followed us we wouldn't bring them face to face with Jean. Around the balcony, we didn't see any sign of them, and across the other hallways, we kept ran until we were out of breath.

Good news, we didn't hear any more of Stryker's men coming after us. Bad news, was that now we didn't know exactly where we were. In our haste, we hadn't paid much attention to the turns we'd taken. I had been focusing on sounds of pursuit rather than the twists and turns.

"Jean? Storm," Chris tapped the transcommunicative device, we could hear nothing but static. That shouldn't have happened, where were the others?

"We might be in a receptionless area," he said trying to assuage my fear.

"Lets hope so," we picked our way carefully through the room. I didn't like the darkness, anyone could be hiding in the shadows. My skin prickled, my hair stood on end, I expected bullets to come tearing out of the darkened areas of the room.

"Shh," I made a motion and he stopped fiddling with the device. I thought I had heard a bellow of pain, it sounded as if someone were being tortured or at the very least on the brink of death. The sound was faint and it echoing. "Do you hear it, too?"

"Yeah, want to go see what it is?" His eyes were dark with unspoken rage. If it were one of the kids, a student from the Mansion, all hell was going to break loose.

"Course."

We were both cautious as we followed the sounds. Checking the doorways did nothing, only generators and shadows lurked within the silent rooms.

"There, did you hear that? It was definitely a woman's scream that time," Chris picked up the pace, there had been agony and anger in the girl's voice.

The shouts were closer, almost on top of the sound. There was an open doorframe different from the others. This one was edged in a metal of some kind, I gasped as I inspected it closely. The metal was the same kind that Logan's claws were made of, adamantium he had called it.

A green flame appeared in my hand. If Stryker was performing more of his experiments on kids... Chris narrowed his eyes and pointedly stepped in front of me as we entered the room. We had to go up a flight of stairs, then another one before we entered the room.

Out of everything I had been expecting, soldiers cutting into one of our classmates, tanks holding our friends, what I saw made the fire I held dissolve. Shock, awe, fear permeated the haze that had taken my mind.

Logan wasn't the only one with a set of claws, there was a woman, too. She was beautiful, raven haired, piercing blue eyes, a killing machine complete with a long claw for each of her fingers.

There were x-rays on the walls, they showed skeletons and it was obvious that the two were Logan and the woman. Yuriko, her name was, if the scans were correct. I remembered Logan saying that the adamantium had been surgically grafted into him, but I hadn't understood the full implication until now.

The pictures were gruesome, blood streaming down skin, needles inserted in his arms, legs... while he was submersed inside one of the tanks they were fighting around. It made sense, this was a laboratory and the subjects had been human.

Like his dream, he'd said, tanks, scientists, green...

Logan was fighting her, this agilely, lethal woman. Scratches across her face were healing as fast as Logan's wounds. It was clear that he had more than met his match.

"No!" Chris pulled me back against the wall when I took a step forward.

"Who-- what-- she--" I hadn't meant to move into the light. The way they fought... it was so... sinuous, vicious, sterile, in a way. Both of them fought with the same skill, matched moves, though the woman was more graceful than Logan. Feminine her movements were, despite their killer intent.

Logan was countering the attacks, but only just. He could hardly make any offensive moves due to his preoccupation with stopping her from slicing him apart. I had never thought to see Logan on the defensive. As the shock faded desperate terror took its place. She could kill him, Logan-- competent, deadly, fatal, always so sure of himself... the fear lodged itself in my throat. She could tear him apart and I would be standing still, watching.

"Let me go." I had never seen this side of Chris before, his eyes were blue as the clearest amethyst. I couldn't decipher the emotion in them, it wasn't anger, there was no horror... "She's killing him, damn it!"

Logan had fallen onto a grate suspended over a tank of water. I watched as the woman latched herself to the grate, underneath him. A scream rose in my throat when I saw her dig her claws into his back. Again, and again, his blood fell into the tank beneath him. Logan roared in pain and rolled to the side to escape it.

"You can't go in there," Chris wrapped his arms around the front of my body. Whether he was trying to comfort me or hold me back, I didn't know. I fought against his hold, Logan bellowed in agony, I felt tears in my eyes.

I knew that, but it was killing me to stand by and watch. He didn't even know we were here so intense was his concentration on the fight.

"You realize it, too, you're letting the panic take control."

"I know, but..." Logan lay on his stomach, paralyzed, I knew, from the healing working overtime to repair damaged flesh and organs. Her claws ripped through the uniform and no doubt to the other side of his chest. "... goddamit!!"

"This is the fight of a lifetime," Chris said hoarsely, "he'd hate us if we interrupted."

"I know, I know, just--" damn him for being right all of the time. I had fought, no holds barred, death staring me in the face. I'd have hated for someone to interfere, to take my victory away from me. It hurt, though, watching him fight for his life, it hurt so much I felt as though my body was disintegrating around me.

He had trapped her under the grate, her claws still managing to do a lot of damage. I saw blood spurt from his mouth as he exhaled.

Yuriko hadn't made any sound to betray her pain. Logan, too, was quiet. No noise reverberated in the room aside from the metallic grate of claws against adamantium covered bone. She had scored more scratches across his face, but Logan reached for one of the nozzles near the grate. She drew back her hand. no doubt to finish the battle, when he stabbed her through the stomach with it.

Chris and I watched, horrified, as the metal ran through her body. I choked when I saw adamantium emerge from her eyes, nose, and mouth. Logan had won the battle, bloody, bruised, but still victorious.

"Jesus," Chris muttered. The ten-clawed woman fell to the bottom of the tank, air bubbles rose to the surface in her wake.

"Logan," I croaked through the lump in my throat. "Dead god, Logan."

I pulled away from Chris barely feeling him follow behind me. I raced down the stairs, he still hadn't seen us.

A shock ran through my mind as if metal had briefly touched an electrical socket. I ignored it, however, when he noticed us. Another shock, this one lasted longer, I wasn't the only one who felt it.

Chris shook his head to clear the painful surge and Logan's hazel eyes narrowed as he climbed painfully down from the grate. It was then the real pain kicked in.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Authors Note: thanks 'mistakes' for pointing that little fact out about Bobby. I've finally fixed it, edited a lot, cleaned up the writing a bit. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

The first waves of pain hit and disappeared so quickly that my healing factor kept up. I didn't know what needed to be healed, but something was happening to my mind. Something electrical was happening to my brain. My vision blurred, nausea turned my stomach as the healing repaired whatever damage had taken place. A headache started, faded, growing better before it worsened.

"What the hell's happening," Chris gasped. I wasn't the only one with a headache, Chris held his head with his eyes closed. Logan, too, felt it, though he his healing was repairing the damage, as well.

"I don't know, maybe while they were fighting a chemical circulated through the air?"

"Makes sense," Chris opened his eyes and refocused, "I say we get outta here before-"

Whatever it was hadn't let go. A high-pitched shrieking sound reverberated through the air. It was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard, a fork scraping against a plate, dog whistles had nothing over this sound.

I fell back onto a wall for support barely noticing the pain that expelled whatever breath still stirred in my lungs. Logan's overly large jacket fell from one side of my body. Chris had fallen to one knee refusing to kneel, his eyes were the color of the ocean during a storm and just as determined. Logan took three steps towards us before standing stock-still trying to fight whatever was happening to us.

I slid down against the wall not able to concentrate on anything else, it felt as though my mind was slowly separating. Tears rose behind my eyes but they didn't fall.

The floor was cold, it smelled like gasoline, metal, and a hospital. I could smell leather, blood from the fight, all of my senses were sharpened as pain tore my mind apart.

"Fight it," Chris snarled. "Get to... the door..."

"I can't... move," I panted, horrified to realize that it was true. I couldn't have stood or gotten even an inch closer to the door. The same healing factor that helped me to heal had rendered me virtually paralyzed. Whatever was killing us had put the healing on alert, the two were canceling each other out.

White flashed behind my eyes, my lungs were seizing up, I could faintly hear the ragged breaths in between the roaring in my mind that was steadily growing louder. I felt something touch my shoulder, I was powerless to do anything about it and too far-gone to even try and fight it.

"Draya..." Logan had somehow gotten over to where I lay. "Breathe... damnit... you're not going to die here!"

"Help... him," I said through gritted teeth reaching for Chris.

Someone screamed, I don't know whether it was him or I. I wouldn't be surprised if all of us did. There was one last lance of pain before quiet descended. The shrill whistling sound stopped, green light was flaring into my eyes.

It took me a moment to realize that the shrill sound had stopped. Was it Sireyn? Could she have caused such a reaction in all of us?

I was still bracing from the pain of it all, Chris had sat up shakily and helped me to sit up, too. My teeth were chattering and I had the insane urge to laugh. Every muscle felt like it were locked and unwilling to ever move properly again. No matter how much I tried, I knew that it was no use. They'd relax and work properly again eventually, I'd just have to wait it out until then.

"Your shoulder," Chris said quietly looking at where there was a definite problem. The bone wasn't in right, I'd bet anything that it was dislocated. It made sense, explained the agony from when I had fallen back against the wall.

"Do you know how to set it?"

With his help, again, I got to my feet only to have the laboratory spin wildly out of focus. I felt drunk. Slow, stupid, and reeling I could barely stay on my feet. My body was healing the small wounds on my palms and legs, scratches from the rough flooring. I wouldn't be able to heal my shoulder, not with the bone out of place.

"No," Chris shook his head helplessly.

"You have to--"

"I do." Logan said, interrupting me. All of his wounds had healed, he was whole and unblemished once again. I watched his expression for any signs of worry, but he was good at keeping things like that from being read. "This is going to hurt. Count of three, alright?"

"Okay." I remembered not to bite my lip or tongue, tried to concentrate on anything except the knowledge that in three seconds I could very well end up on the floor again.

"One..." his eyes met mine, Chris paced offered me his hand to hold, I refused not wanting to accidentally break his bones should it hurt that badly. "Two..." I was wrong, Logan's eyes weren't hazel, they're flecked with bits of green and blue and—black clouded my eyes and a metallic coppery taste filled my mouth.

The bone slid back into place and Logan kept me from collapsing. The people who've written about relocating bones haven't exaggerated. It hurt like hell, a lot more in fact. And when they say that bruising usually occurs, they weren't kidding about that either.

I cursed and jerked in Logan's grip. His calm eyes met my, no doubt, rage seething ones.

"That wasn't three," I growled trying to rub the ache from my shoulder.

"Figured it'd be easier that way," He grinned, a shadow of his old self. "You okay now, kid?"

"Yeah, just dandy," I paused for a moment going through my mental checklist. I could move, check, dizziness gone, check, pain anywhere, no. I was fine. We had much more important things to do, this was barely registering on the list of priorities.

He studied us a moment as if judging our words, Chris, too, seemed fine. He was walking around agitated, no limping, no open wounds.

"Good, keep close. I want to know what the hell's been going on."

"Join the club," Chris said falling into step with me. Logan seemed to know exactly where he was going, he zigzagged through the corridors without stopping. Up stairs, through a hallway, another laboratory-like door, and then up more stairs.

Logan opened a door to the outside world, I shielded my eyes against the harsh glare andthe painfully white terrain. The snow had stopped, but it was still ice-cold outside. We saw a figure move through the snow to a helicopter in the distance.

"Stryker," Logan growled softly.

We watched him tear across the snow towards a rather short, chubby, militaristic man.. They weren't too far from the door, and this was another moment where we'd stay out of sight and in the background. This was Logan's business, not ours.

"Are you really alright?" Chris asked leaning against the wall inside the door. He was smart, it was a lot warmer there than where I had opted to stand.

"Yeah, what about you?"

"I've been worse," he shrugged.

Chris had changed a lot from the person he'd been in high-school. He looked the same, for the most part, but his eyes were darker, wiser. I wondered what he saw on my face as we stared at one another, memories running through my head.

We had always said we'd find adventure and exploration once high-school was over. This, however, seemed a little bit of a stretch. I didn't regret anything, from the way Chris was calmly staring back at me, he, too, had no regrets.

I was glad he was with me, I wouldn't have been able to leave him behind. He was Chris, my best friend, I had his back, he had mine. I was glad that he, too, had gotten powers. It would have been lonely without him.

"I'm glad you stayed at the Mansion," he said as if echoing my thoughts, "it'd have been a bitch to track you down, otherwise."

"Yeah," I smiled, "I'm glad we stayed."

Logan had cornered Stryker against the helicopter waiting in a circle formed by rocks and halogen lights. From the red blood splatters on the ground around them it wasn't hard to figure out what had happened between them.

"Bastard, he got what he deserves," Chris swore staring out at them in contempt.

"He's not dead, Chris." Stryker proved my point by screaming after Logan.

"If you really knew about your past- the kind of person you were. The word we did together-"

"Together," I repeated in surprise.

"-People don't change, Wolverine. You were an animal then, you're an animal now. I just gave you claws."

He was wrong on all aspects, people _do_ change they have to in order to keep up with the world. One question had been answered, it had, in fact, been Stryker who did the experiments all those years ago. Logan was indestructible, able to heal himself of virtually any wound, protected by the adamantium skeleton.

Logan had said he couldn't remember much of his past, but had he actually joined Stryker at some point in his life? It was possible, if given the choice, wouldn't Logan have chose to make himself stronger?

He was coming back, a grim expression on his face.

"Its too late," Stryker bellowed, "in a few seconds we'll all be underwater!"

Alarms started blaring sending flashing lights sweeping across the ground. Logan ran past us with hardly a backwards glance to make sure we were following. We kept pace with him, somewhere in this building our friends were unaware of the danger. Logan knew this place well, or seemed to, we all needed to get the hell out.

Had Storm and Kurt saved the other kids? Did Jean get Scott back to normal? What was happening with Magneto, Mystique, and the Professor? How the hell were we going to get out of here in time?

I forced the questions back, focus on one thing at a time. The most important was to locate everyone, get back to the Jet, start'er up and fly the hell away. If we failed... I ran faster, we'd all die together.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Authors Note: Its been awhile, and I apologize, but I couldn't finish this story without there being hope of a third movie. Now that there definitely is, and I bought the book to prove it, I figure that I should finish this story before I start on the third one. Something for me to do during my long, boring, stupid summer classes at UCC. So… here goes.

We followed him down a long corridor, I tried not to notice how wet the walls had become, and the rumbling that went through the floor as the water pressure increased. Logan hardly noticed our presence, we were all desperately trying to find the others.

I lost track of how many rights and lefts we made. Chris and I were exhausted, but we had no choice now but to follow Logan. If we were to lose sight of him we'd be hopelessly lost, and the thought of drowning to death didn't appeal to either of us.

We ran up a flight of stairs into an open room with machinery and crackling electric wires. A flash of white caught my attention, only one person had hair like that. Chris and I watched as Scott and Storm supported the Professor, something must have happened to his wheelchair. The kids we'd seen on the screens were tentatively making their way across the room led by the Professor.

That answered all of my questions. The kids were okay, the Professor had been rescued, Scott was alive, Jean was fine. Logan's claws extended as he slashed at a metal box. Chris and I ducked as electricity sparked into the damp air.

"You don't want to go that way," Logan yelled to the group, shaking his head, "trust me."

Water flooded into the room from behind the doors that had just closed. Chris and I had been standing in front of those doors, the water was icy cold, and we were drenched. The electricity, thankfully, had stopped emitting from the box. Logan's body may have been able to repair itself against electrocution, he'd used his metal claws to diffuse the box, but I wasn't confident for me, definitely not Chris.

"Come on, there's another way out of here," Logan told us. There was a shift of power, Scott had relinquished the reins of control to Wolverine. The kids looked scared, Chris and I went behind them while the adults took the lead.

Logan opened a door to the outside, Chris used his fire trick to keep us warm. It would be more difficult this time around, our clothes were soaking wet There was nothing else to do but go forward.

The worst wasn't over yet, the dam had yet to flood, and we would all be underwater if that happened. We managed to make it to the top of a hill, the same hill that would lead us to Stryker's helicopter, and safety. One of the littler kids fell, but Logan picked him up before Chris could get over to him.

"The helicopter was right here," Logan growled in frustration.

Logan and Jean shared a look, both were tense, anxious, and scared. They both knew that options were running out. Chris and I acknowledged that too, we might have powers, but those abilities didn't include flying.

"Look over there," Chris shouted, we all turned in time to see the X-jet come into view. Who the hell was flying-- as the jet came closer we saw Rogue in the cockpit. She looked terrified, but managed to get the jet onto the ground, regardless.

Everyone clambered into the warm confines of the X-jet. Apparently, we weren't waiting for Magneto and Mystique.

"It's okay, Rogue," Storm was talking to Marie, and Kurt was getting the Professor settled into one of the seats. Chris was helping one of the girls who had finally lost her nerve, she cried onto his shoulder as he glanced uncomfortably at me.

Everyone was here and accounted for—everyone except--- where was Logan? One look out of the jet's window answered that question, I saw him disappear back over the hill.

"Don't even think about it," Chris warned me. "He'll come back, he still has the kid with him, right?"

Scott came into the room, Jean was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had gone after Logan, I hoped so, she could convince him to return now better than anyone. The fortress might hold more answers, but what answers could he hope to find when it was filled with water?

"Scott, we have to get to Washington," Xavier said tersely, "I fear this has gone beyond Alkali Lake."

"Bobby?" Logan came into view still holding the boy, Bobby took him and helped him into one of the seats.

"You okay?" Jean asked coming into view.

"I am now," Logan's eyes met Jean Gray's. Something passed between the two of them, I averted my eyes to give them the privacy that warranted the situation. Scott missed their interaction completely, something was happening.

"What's wrong," Logan asked catching the aura of unease.

"Vertical thrusters are offline," Cyclops replied.

I had no idea what that meant, but 'offline' didn't sound like a good thing, not when it came to expensive machinery. Our capability of flying away from potential disaster after hearing 'offline' was improbable.

"Has anyone seen Jon," Rogue asked.

"Pyro?" Wolverine asked, "where the hell is he?"

We had no time to go searching for him now, but I knew that we couldn't leave him behind if he were, indeed, stranded somewhere. Jean's eyes became distant, it was the same look the Professor had when he was trying to realize why one of us had gotten into trouble.

"He's with Magneto," she said softly.

"They're functioning," Storm said uneasily, motioning toward the X-jet's screen."But I don't know how long they're going to last."

"Come on," Scott shouted dropping his fist onto the computer screen. It was the first time I had seen a break in his calm demeanor. What had happened now? The lights in the jet dimmed, everyone was silent, waiting with bated breath to hear how bad the news would be.

"Oh no," Storm sounded frantic, "we've lost the power."

"What do you think's going to happen?" Chris asked me quietly so none of the kids would overhear.

"I don't know." It was the most honest answer I could give. I was torn between wanting to cover my ears and close my eyes—crawling under a seat to wait for death--- and then the more mature side of me, the side that had allowed me to fight well-trained, well-armed soldiers, wanted to fight this.

"It's not us I'm worried about," he glanced towards the girl he had comforted. "Its them.'

We couldn't hear what the adults were saying anymore. They had moderated their tone as to try not to scare _us_. Bobby had his arm around Rogue, she had her head on his shoulder, and I could tell that she was fighting not to cry.

Kurt was praying, Jubilee was staring vacantly out one of the windows, and Jean had disappeared again.

"What do you think our parents are doing?"

I glanced at him in confusion though I understood the meaning behind his question. While we were fighting for our lives, what were the other people of the world doing? Were they preparing dinner as they did every night, helping their kids with homework, sitting down to watch a movie?

He put his arm around my shoulder. I took some comfort from the gesture, we were together, at least I wasn't alone. If the jet didn't take off, what could we do? Chris and I both had the power of fire. Logan would be okay, he'd survive this, but what about the others?

Jubilee had her fireworks, the Professor could try to call for help. Everyone else was so far away, who would get here in time? Storm? She could control the weather, would she be able to do something to prevent the water from reaching us?

"Jean?" the Professor asked.

"Wait," Logan's eyes were feral. "Where is Jean?"

"She's outside," Xavier said, the same look on his face as Jean had when locating Jon.

Scott ran down the aisle, fear etched across his face. The power came back on as the ramp snapped into place.

"No!" Scott shouted, "We're not leaving! Lower the ramp!" The same desperation was in his tone as when I had asked Chris for help. I remembered being trapped in the escape hatchway with no way of knowing whether Logan was still alive. Whereas I had clawed the door trying to find the release mechanism, Scott would battle to get Jean back safely aboard the jet. "Storm! Lower it!"

Storm issued the command, "I can't," she said helplessly. "She's controlling the jet."

Out seatbelts snapped into place, and the engines roared as they prepared for takeoff. Logan, Scott, and Kurt raced toward the front of the jet trying to get a glimpse of Jean.

"You!" Logan barked at Kurt, on a thread of genius. "Get her now!"

Kurt closed his eyes preparing for teleportation, "She's not letting me," he said bewildered.

"I know what I'm doing," Xavier started to say. "This is the only way." It took a moment for us all to realize it was Jean speaking through the Professor. I gripped Chris' hand, we couldn't leave Jean behind!

"Jean, listen to me," Scott said, his voice breaking. "Don't do this."

"Goodbye," Xavier said, his eyes flooding with tears.

"No!" Logan cried, anguished, 'no!"

"Jean," one of the kids whispered.

"She's gone…" Logan said in shock, he repeated it as if he couldn't believe it.

"Don't you say that," Cyclops commanded, pounding at Logan as if that would bring her back. "No!"

I sat quietly trying to get past the numbing cold that had invaded my body. Jean had sacrificed herself for us. She had managed to hold back a flood. She got the engines back online and lifted the jet into the air at the same time. All for us. All because she believed in a cause that was worth dying for.

Kurt started praying aloud, the kids bowed their heads, Storm had tears flowing silently down her face. Logan was still in shock, Cyclops sobbed openly, and I struggled against the rising tide of rage. Chris put his arm around my shoulder and I saw past the red haze that had blanketed my mind. It was helping the others to hear his prayer, I wouldn't lash out at him blindly, not when they needed it.

I couldn't help thinking, despite the peaceful look on Kurt's face, when had He ever helped us? The world was trying to make a mutant petting zoo. They had drawn a line, mutants on one side, normal humans on the other. He, who was supposed to love everyone, what was He doing to make things better?

Nothing. It was up to those who had decided to fight. We controlled our fate, our destinies were all entwined. No other-world power was going to change the way the world worked. Power, might, determination and rebellion; that's what would cause results.

Jean had died. She was one of the nicest people I'd ever met. A doctor, too, she helped people in all ways. She had sacrificed herself for us, had allowed us to escape. No, I didn't believe in any god, I believed in the power that we possessed. One day we'd make the world pay for the sacrifices we had made.

"Storm," Xavier said, breaking the silence, "we have a stop to make."


End file.
